


Hide & Seek

by AllMyShipsAreProblematic, Datmomfriend



Series: Two Truths & A Lie [4]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Bondage, Dom/sub, Hate Sex, M/M, Mistaken Identity, New Year's Eve, Past Ford Pines/Stan Pines, Public Sex, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Sickfic, Trust Kink, misplaced affection, past Stanchez - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 12:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 50,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMyShipsAreProblematic/pseuds/AllMyShipsAreProblematic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Datmomfriend/pseuds/Datmomfriend
Summary: "How we did things last time... that's how you want it again? You want someone to take charge like before? And don't go getting all tongue tied. I need to know these things."The question lingered in the air and Rick didn't break eye contact as he awaited Ford's answer. He just sat there as if he had asked Ford about the weather. Ford flushed ever so slightly. He forgot Rick had that effect on him. He wouldn't break eye contact with Rick though."Yes. I would like it to be like last time." he said softly.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like updates on the newest stories in the "Two Truths & A Lie" series or would like to share them, links are posted on my tumblr. please follow and reblog at Allmyshipsareproblematic.tumblr.com

Ford sat in the semicircular booth and pushed the food on his plate around with his fork. It wasn't that it was inedible. As most extra-dimensional food went this actually looked and tasted pretty close to Earth lasagna. This just wasn't what he was hungry for. 

The author put down his fork with an exasperated sigh and picked up his wine glass. He drank as he looked around the room. Other semicircular booths covered in lavender velvet lined the opposite side of the room, Tables covered what could have been a dancefloor in between and the air held a thin film of blue-grey smoke. The restaurant looked as if it had catered to movie stars and the upper class when it was still in vogue but years of neglect had turned it into a barely operational dive. The smell of stale cigarettes and musk clung to the booth from the many occupants who had come and gone over the years. 

All this was the reason Ford had chosen this place. This was where clandestine meetings were supposed to happen. Like in those old mobster movies Stanley had loved when they were children. Ford wasn't supposed to have time to order more than a drink before his companion should have shown up. The other man would step up to the booth and ask if this seat was taken or if Ford was looking for a good time. Then Ford could offer him a roguish smile and invite him in. Sadly, Ford didn't see that happening now. It'd been nearly two hours since he sat down and there was no sign of the other man. 

It had only been six months after their first encounter that Ford had started leaving trails of clues like bread crumbs. Sometimes written on cocktail napkins when Ford was feeling flirtatious. Sometimes on bathroom stall walls when Ford was feeling crude. He might even admit to leaving clues with paramours he felt the other man would also find enticing. Perhaps that's where the trail had gone cold for the other man. While Ford preferred intelligence in any long term partners this wasn't a requirement to share his bed. Willingness was more than enough when he found an entity that piqued his interest. 

Perhaps the other man had grown tired of their game already. It had been a year since they had last made contact. Ford liked to try and calculate what year it must be in his home dimension and if his calculations were correct, which they always were, it was 1991. It was very possible that that insanely smart man had moved on. As long as he hadn't return to Stanley, the author would accept the situation. Ford wasn't sure he could keep his composure if that man should lay his hands on his Stanley again. It was a selfish thought but a rare one that Ford allowed himself to have. 

He scanned the room one more time then rooted around in his trench coat pockets for the right monetary notes for this world in his pockets. He might as well pay his bill and head back to his current safe house.

There was no ceremony to when Rick sat down in the booth. He just walked into Ford's line of sight and collapsed into the circular booth across from him. He slid in enough to swing his legs up onto the table, making the cutlery jangle and favoring Ford with a view of the shiny silver Doc Martins he had been wearing the last time the two of them had met.

"Hey, Rambo." Rick said as if he had just returned from the restroom rather than having only seen Ford more than a year ago. Honestly, to Ford Rick sounded a bit bored. "Found you."

Ford gave a startled jump at the loud noise and his whole body tensed as he looked up at Rick. He relaxed slowly as he saw there was no threat. There was a surprised look on his face as he appraised the man who had just made himself very comfortable in the booth. After a moment Ford smiled. 

"Greetings. I thought perhaps you lost the trail. I'm glad to know you still think our arrangement is mutually beneficial." He leaned back and tried to affect a relaxed and confident air.

"Uh-huh, yeah sure. This place do anything good?" Rick said distractedly. He wasn't asking Ford for his opinion as much as he was just making a blanket statement to fill the air. He was flipping through the menu and after turning it in his hand to give the back a cursory look he tossed it on the table then scooped up the remains of Ford's plate and began to eat. His demeanor made Ford feel as if he was being ignored and Rick wasn't giving this rendezvous the reverence it deserved.

Ford's brow crinkled as he watched Rick devour his meal. A year has a way of adding a patina of nostalgia to people. The author had forgotten about the drunkard loudly crowing over his winnings at Slots N' Shots or the vomiting in the alleyway. He had remembered the dominant sexual tension and an intellect that, Ford hated to admit it, may havdy even surpassed his own. The glass of wine was once again lifted to Ford's lips as he relaxed and shot Rick a nonplussed look.

"Only came in here to have a drink once before. Thought it'd be of your aesthetic." He sipped his wine in a haughty way. This was obviously not what he had envisioned. "I in no way meant to inconvenience you with this game. I was just about to pay the bill and head out."

"So what, you don't want to fuck?" Rick asked nonchalantly. He put the plate down and looked at Ford for the first time since he had sat down. His words may have been casually said and Rick was not smiling but there was a feral kind of challenge in his eye and the quirk of his eyebrow.

Red wine splashed over Ford's face as he sputtered into his glass. After placing it down he snatched the napkin off his lap and wiped his face. He was blushing crimson and it almost seemed like it made the lewd glint in Rick's eyes more pronounced.

"I was hoping for something like that but if it's going to be a chore for you I wouldn't want to impose." He said once his face had been wiped clean. Rick did smile then and it was dangerous and captivating. He swung his legs down and scooted a little closer along the semicircular seat towards Ford.

"Don't get all bent out of shape, beautiful. You're the one who told me to come here. No need to beat around the bush. You want me, don't you."  That last bit was not a question. Ford tried not to show how much he wanted Rick in his body language but it looked more stiff and unnatural than he had hoped.

"I won't deny that was my intent for us to meet." His eyes shifted to look at Rick sidelong. "I had hoped you would want the same thing."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Was the only answer Rick offered. He took Ford's glass and drank a mouthful of the wine. He made a distasteful face then put it back down in front of Ford. "Ugh. What is that? Might as well drink it with a bendy straw...'

"It's red wine. It's surprisingly good considering the surroundings." Ford smirked a little. "I don't think they have jungle juice on the menu but you can always ask or my safe house is around the corner. We can always go there."

"I know what it is. It's weak as hell, is all. Does it come with a happy meal toy? And why do you have to take everything so literally? You remind me of my friend Birdperson, except he's actually cool." Rick spat. He scrubbed his hand into his slicked back hair irritably. Rick forgot about Ford's smart mouth coupled with his inability to let things just be and how much it could get to him. "Look, are we doing this, or are you getting cold feet?"

Rick put out his hand as if he were offering it for Ford to take. Ford smiled. He supposed he could look past the abrasive attitude Rick seemed to put on in public for a night of bliss.

"We're doing this." He said as he made to place his hand into Rick's. The physical show of giving up control to the other man excited him. Rick pulled his hand away before Ford could take it with a sharp inhale through his teeth as if he had just remembered something unfortunate. He would be lying if he said the look of surprise on Ford's face didn't amuse him.

"On second thought we have a bit of housekeeping to handle first." Rick said. "How we did things last time... that's how you want it again? You want someone to take charge like before? And don't go getting all tongue tied. I need to know these things."

The question lingered in the air and Rick didn't break eye contact as he awaited Ford's answer. He just sat there as if he had asked Ford about the weather. Ford flushed ever so slightly. He forgot Rick had that effect on him. He wouldn't break eye contact with Rick though.

"Yes. I would like it to be like last time." he said softly. Rick seemed pleased and reached into his coat for his pack of cigarettes. He packed them against the heel of his hand as he spoke.

"Glad to hear it." He said nonchalantly. He pulled a smoke from the pack with his teeth and put the pack back, swapping it for a plastic lighter. The cigarette bobbed with his words. "If that's the case, we are going to have to lay down some ground rules."

Rick lit the cigarette, drawing deeply, and then exhaling a soft jet of smoke like some kind of malnourished fire breathing beastie Ford had yet to catalog in his journals.

"You don't seem like the rules type but I agree with you." Ford felt a bit more at ease knowing Rick wanted this as much as he did. He picked up his wine again and swirled it in the glass a little before taking another sip. "What exactly did you have in mind? "

"You and I are going to talk about all the things you will and won't let me do to you. Cool and collected versus in the heat of the moment." Rick said matter of factly. He picked the fork back up and took another bite of the mystery dish then followed it with another drag of his cigarette. Ford shifted in his seat. 

"Perhaps this conversation would be better held in private." He suggested. He sipped his wine and set the glass down on the table. "There's something I suppose. I don't want an audience. I've got a bounty on my head. It would be suicide to be... Distracted while some stranger could recognize me and decide they like the idea of getting rich."

Rick made an expression of surprise and mild satisfaction around his cigarette. He plucked it from his lips and let it dangle between his long fingers as he held his head up with the heel of his hand.

"Jumping right into it, huh." He noted "But don't worry. This is our setup, beautiful. Let's see. You don't want to be beaten, right? You don't strike me as a flogging type. How do you feel about spanking?"

Rick's tone was analytical but he watched Ford like a hawk for even the most minute reaction. It got one. Ford remembered how it felt when Rick had slapped his backside that day and the lewd noise he had made. He felt his member stir in his slacks. He tried to keep his composure but the blush was spreading.

"You're correct that I don't want real pain but I would find that enjoyable. I don't want you to leave any marks on my body." 

"Yeah, had to check cause those are not the same thing, let me tell you. Not the same at all. Nope." Rick hesitated and eyed Ford like he was trying to navigate the best way to discreetly tell Ford he had toilet paper stuck to his shoe. "Ok, well so ah, you're not into...like, bodily fluids, are you?"

Ford's nose crinkled in disgust.

"Absolutely not. Nothing humiliating either." He ran a six-fingered hand through his hair and looked away. "I suppose I don't mind you saying lewd things to me. I'll tell you what I want if you feel you need to hear it but I won't bark like a dog or wear women's clothing for you. I won't debase myself. I do have some pride." The haughty tone was back in his voice.

"Jeez, relax! I had to ask! It's just how it's done. Can't one grown man calmly tell another if he likes to get pissed on? We are both adults here. And humiliating? That's a pretty broad term. What are we talking about specifically?" Rick put his hands up defensively, cigarette still between his fingers. It drew blue-grey lines into the air. Rick took a pull on it thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I've never done this before but I am willing to learn." Ford admitted somewhat self-consciously. Smoke leaked from Rick's lips and he glanced sidelong at the other man. He loved the cracks in Ford's self assured finish. It reminded him of what had transpired upon their first meeting.

"Alright then, how about this? For now, you get a veto on anything you find humiliating. Say the word and it's off the table. It's a little more fun to learn by doing, I think. Better than sitting here all night with a checklist of kinks." Rick scooted himself closer to grab Ford's wine glass. He emptied it, made another face that seemed to say that was just a shame and tapped the incredibly long ash of his cigarette into the glass. The newly revealed tip glowed in the intimate lighting.

"So you are looking for original recipe dom-sub stuff. Not vanilla but not incredibly interesting either. Bondage?" Rick seemed to throw that last word out as an afterthought. Ford thought about this for a moment.

"I don't believe that's out of the question but perhaps after we've had a bit more practice." He swallowed as he felt the heat spread down his neck. "The rest sounds accurate and acceptable. Is there anything you wish to add? Any required actions from me?"

Rick didn't play as if he were thinking about it. He had never been a pro dom but he had seen a lot in his life and had a pretty good idea of the structure Ford would need.

"Hows about this? I'm gonna make this whole thing real cut and dry for you. When I count, you have until..." Rick chuckled, reminiscing on the last time he told Ford this. "- twelve to do as I say. If I don't give you a specific order the default position is on your knees, hands behind your back. It's like an on off switch. No sticky questions of when it starts. It starts when I say it does. Even you can understand that."

"And if I don't wish to engage in an activity at that time? Do I have a way of stopping the progression of the events?" Ford asked crossing his arms over his chest. Rick seemed both annoyed by and strangely impressed with the thoroughness of Ford's questioning.

"You've got your veto."  Rick explained. He leaned in and placed a hand on Ford's bicep. He squeezed the muscle there and it was both a gesture of comfort and desire. It was the first time Rick had touched Ford since the last searing kiss they had shared on Lottocron Nine. "That's the beauty of this whole arrangement. I drive the car but you've got the keys. It's your finger on the button."

Perhaps it was his body language or the tension in his arm, but Rick could sense Ford's apprehension. Rick ashed his cigarette into the wine glass again and considered something a moment.

"Here. I'll make it that much easier. If I start the count and you're not up for it all you have to say is 'olly olly oxen free'. Keep it in theme with our game we have. And don't give me that face. Believe me, if you don't use a weird phrase, things get muddled. You'd be amazed how 'Don't! Stop!' can turn into ' _Don't stop!_ ' in the heat of the moment."

Rick's use of verbal punctuation was on full display as he moaned the words as a breathy example. He even made a mock face of excessive ecstasy. He snapped out of it a split second later and favored Ford with a snide grin.

"So what do you say, beautiful?" He asked softly. Rick pressed his cigarette into Ford's mouth then put out his free hand again, this time offering a handshake. His other hand still held Ford's arm. 

Fords heart was thrumming in his chest. He did want this. The question was did he trust Rick? It had been beneficial in the past. He supposed he could try it. If it didn't work out he could stop leaving clues for Rick and that would be the end of it. Taking a long drag off the cigarette, Ford removed it from his lips and tossed the what was left into the wine glass.

"I believe we have come to a mutual agreement." He said as he exhaled the smoke. He slid his six-fingered hand into Rick's and gave it a firm shake as he smiled at the other man. Rick held Ford's hand tightly and only let go when he felt Ford's grip slacken. With that, Rick leaned back in the booth's lavender colored seat luxuriously.

"Ok," He said in a comfortable casual tone "Now that we've got some ground rules...take your dick out."

Ford blinked. "Pardon me?" He stiffened in his seat and looked at Rick as if he was crazy. Rick sat back up and leaned into Ford's personal space. His eyes promised terrible wonderful things.

"You heard me. Undo your pants and take your dick out under the table right now." Rick's voice was low and insistent.

"I- I said I don't want an audience." Ford felt himself start to get hard in his pants and his breath caught in his chest. Ford wished he had another glass of wine. "If someone should see..."

"They'll only be an audience if you get caught." Rick assured Ford. He came in close to whisper in Ford's ear. It was terse but not rude. Authoritative was the best word for it. "So do what you're told and keep your cool. Cock out, hands on the table. One... Two... Three... Four..."

Rick's arm snaked over Ford's shoulder and held the back of Ford's neck. The grip was strong but not painful. Ford supposed he could use his word. He could end it now. But he didn't want to. As inconspicuously as possible he slid his hands under the dingy tablecloth and unzipped his fly. With practiced movements, he reached in and extracted his penis from the folds of fabric. It was embarrassing that he was already half hard. He placed his hands on the table and gave the other man a sidelong look.

"Alright. It's done. Now what?"

"Just act natural." Rick purred. The hand that was holding onto Ford's neck slid down the man's shoulder and side. He moved to sit right beside Ford, their thighs flush beside each other. Rick discreetly pulled the table a little closer then smooth as butter slipped his hand beneath the tablecloth. His long fingertips deftly wrapped around Ford's half-mast erection and Rick chuckled thickly.

"Oh ho, what have we here?" He asked in a hum, not loud enough to be heard over the general noise of the cafe. They were words meant just for Ford. Ford's breath hitched as Rick's hand wrapped around him.

"If I hadn't found the thought enticing I would have stopped this." Ford said softly. He focused on his breathing. Thank God he was good at meditation.

"Ah no... You wouldn't go ruining our fun the first time out, would ya?" Rick teased. He could feel Ford coming to full hardness as he squeezed him. He stroked Ford slowly, feeling out Ford's reaction. He twisted his wrist gently on the upstroke and was rewarded with the slip of precum weeping from the head of Ford's cock. Shifting, Ford gently bumped he shoulder against Rick's. He had forgotten how alluring this tall strange man was. A soft sigh escaped Ford as Rick's thumb spread the precum over his cockhead.

"No. I suppose not. You know I've always found you very attractive, Rick." Yes. He was flirting a bit. At this point he thought that playing coy was a little ridiculous.

"I sure hope so or this would be super awkward." The joking tone was slight. Rick continued to pump his hand over Ford's length. He kept his rhythm steady and slow, not wanting to work Ford up too fast. After a minute or so of that, Rick quickly reached into Ford's pants, squeezed his balls and rolled them gently in his palm. He pulled them from Ford's fly as he went back to stroking Ford.

Ford sighed again. He tried his best to be so quiet. The author was aware that dormant arousal wasn't his strong suit but he took it as a challenge. His hips thrust ever so slightly into Rick's hand and his head tipped back slightly, another soft sigh slipping past his lips.

Rick's hand worked skillfully. It was as if Rick knew or perhaps remembered every inch of Ford's skin. Rick leaned his body against Ford's own as casually as possible. He figured to the outside observer they may have looked like a pair of midnight revelers who may have been a bit too tipsy and were supporting each other. Rick used his proximity to speak in a soft sexy voice to Ford.

"Feel good?" He asked.

"Yes." Ford said breathlessly. His eyes scanned the room. All the other patrons were going about their business, all of them blissfully unaware of the sex act happening in the same room. The thought sent a spike of lust down his spine. He leaned his weight forward on his elbows as he kept his hands on the table like Rick had told him to. "Damn." He moaned softly.

"Good..." Rick smiled devilishly. His free hand patted the top of one of Ford's on the tabletop and rubbed his forearm the way a groom might pet a horse liable to spook. He swirled his thumb over the tip of Ford's cock. His arm bumped Ford's shoulder as he subtlety sped up.

"I'm getting parched. Call the waiter over and order me a gin and tonic. A double. And something for yourself. Something stronger than that terrible wine." The command was clear and dispassionate. Ford looked somewhat startled. 

"Are you serious?" he asked then shuddered as Rick did that thing with his thumb again. Rick pushed Ford forward to lean over the table and joined him. He swapped hands on Ford's length and put an arm around Ford's shoulders. Their new pose was that of comradery, two pals just resting their weight on the table top and each other as they passed the time between rounds. It also helped to hide Rick's caresses. Rick tugged Ford's hair smartly.

"As the plague." Rick stated in a low and deliciously dangerous tone. There was little room for argument. Rick's hand didn't stop on Ford's hot flesh.

Ford didn't want this to stop. If Rick could get him this aroused in this situation then Ford could only imagine what Rick would do with him when they got to the safe house. He gave Rick a look of indignation before catching a waiter's eye. He motioned to the humanoid with turquoise skin and a large trunk where his nose should be. 

"How can I help you, sir?" He asked in a flat nasally voice as he approached the table. Ford took a deep meditative breath, trying not to focus on the feeling of those long fingers under the table.

"Ah. Yes." He cleared his throat and forced back a blush. "A double gin and tonic and a scotch and soda. Please."

"We're celebrating..." Rick explained although no one had asked him. His posture and the theatrical slur in his voice said he was trying to convince the waiter that this was not the first establishment the pair of them had come to this evening. He wrenched his hand deliberately slow and firm on Ford's member to keep the rustle of the table cloth and movement of his arm to an absolute minimum. He spent a moment giving special attention to the slit with the pad of his index finger then stroked down and squeezed Ford's testicles. 

Rick used the arm around Ford's shoulders to shake him a little and bring them in for a drunk's version of a side hug, their temples knocking together softly.

"S'been a year since we've partied together." Rick hissed laughter. "This guy, this guy right here! Ooh, you're the best, pal. Big celebration, huh? In't that right?"

Ford tried not to roll his hips into Rick's hand and swallowed around a moan. Deep meditative breaths. Focus. _Focus_. He could do this if he could focus on other things but of course Rick had to try and ground him in this moment. His erection was throbbing in Rick's hand. He was pulling close to the edge at a rapid pace. 

There was nothing Ford could do about his blush at this point so he decided to use it. He rolled his eyes as he smiled at the waiter and gave him the universally understood look of 'My embarrassing friend is drunk. I'm so sorry.' which he hoped the waiter would pick up on.

"Yes. Celebrating our reunion. It's been quite the night." Ford answered and he hoped he didn't sound breathless while Rick squeezed his cock a little tighter. He leaned into Rick and chuckled to cover up the sounds he wanted to make. The waiter gave a smirk and a sympathetic look to Rick.

"I'll be right back, sir." He said before heading to the bar. Ford sagged against Rick and his thighs shook from the strain he just put on himself.

"Dear God." He groaned quietly.

"Good save. You almost lost it there." Rick said softly. His drunken slur was gone and replaced with something as smooth and plush as the velvet that covered the walls of the booth. There was also a hunger there and a sliver of impatience. His hand had sped up again but only a little. Rick's hand stealthily worked its way back up into Ford's scalp where the probing fingers massaged.

"He'll be back soon, y'know." Rick explained "Doesn't take long for a G and T. Don't you go jizzing in front of him. You're going to have to wait until our drinks come before you do. We got to have a toast. To celebrate."

"Why do you think I ordered a Scotch and soda? It's fast." Ford ground out. He worried he may be sweating a little. He turned his head a little. He was so close to Rick. "I need you. Badly. You will stay for a second round in the safe house, won't you? The alley will do as well." His breath hitched and he groaned as quietly as he could.

"So eager..." Rick laughed softly and it sounded a little condescending.  "...and so greedy. Not even done yet and you're asking for another go. Tell you what. I'll think about it. Eyes straight ahead. Don't want to get caught gazing, right?"

Rick glanced around himself a moment then pressed a quick kiss that was equal parts rewarding and arrogant to Ford's temple. It was lightning fast and could have been mistaken for a moment of gossip being passed into Ford's ear surreptitiously but Rick felt the hard thump of Ford's pulse on his lips.

Taking a deep breath, Ford turned his head and tried to smile casually between slow deep breaths. Their waiter was returning with a tray balanced on one hand and two glasses perched on it. One clear, the other slightly golden. He placed the glasses down in front of the two men. 

"Anything else for you?" He asked with a little smile. Rick squeezed Ford sharply under the table, a silent command to answer.

"We-we're fine. Thank you." Ford stuttered out as he picked up his glass and took a deep swallow. 

"Let me know if you need anything." The waiter added as he gave Ford one more lingering look before leaving. Ford swallowed around the burning alcohol, thankful for the distraction.

"We were just finishing up." Rick added. He waited for the waiter to turn and go before he took hold of the back of Ford's neck and held him there the way one might scruff a disobedient dog. His other hand stopped moving but held on to Ford's cock tightly. Neither motion was enough to really hurt but it was a surprise. 

"Who said you could drink yet?" It wasn't an angry voice, far from it. There was control there and it was exhilarating. In the relative dimness at the back of the booth, Rick watched Ford's Adam's apple bob cautiously. Ford calmly placed the glass back down. 

"I didn't know I needed permission." He said calmly, trying to hold onto a little control. The feel of Rick's hands on him was more inebriating then the alcohol.

"I said we were going to have a toast. You've got to listen." Rick coached. His fingers pulsed arrhythmically on Ford's cock, not letting him calm down but not touching enough to push Ford closer to orgasm. He made a face of sickly enjoyment. "And now you've gone and ruined our special moment. Maybe we should just quit now. Or... you could apologize real nice. Go on, Spock."

Ford gritted his teeth. He wasn't good with apologies.

"It wasn't my intention to spoil your plan. I'll pay better attention next time." He said after a moment.

"Like an automatic phone service." Rick spat, amused despite his scolding tone. He loosened his grip as if he were letting go. Ford's hand moved almost quicker than Rick could see and he gripped Rick's bicep. 

"I'm sorry." He said clear and low, looking at Rick intently. Rick caught Ford's gaze with the hypnotic scrutiny a snake gives a prey animal. His lips parted slightly, a calculated move to draw Ford deeper in. He waited just a moment longer before he gently shook Ford off. He swapped hands, reveling in the split second panic in Ford's eye, so he could pick up his drink and sip as he returned to his work. He watched Ford's hands tensing, opening and closing, all but taking handfuls of the table cloth in his fists. If he was honest, Rick's pants were feeling a bit tighter but his own pleasure was a secondary issue in comparison to setting a precedent as to how things would be from here on out.

"I'll drink to that. Cheers." He said and put his elbow up on the table. Rick held his tumbler in a loose grip and it dangled in his hand, clawlike. He pumped Ford's cock steadily, not rushing to finish but setting a stable pace. Ford sighed in relief as Rick's hand went back around his cock and stroked him. He lifted his glass and clinked it against Rick's. His eyes were a tad wild and his breathing was short. 

"Cheers." He said then waited for Rick to drink before he did. Rick savored the flavor of his drink. It was more gin than tonic and Rick was happy for it. It was strong and floral and the taste blossomed over his palette and bit into the back of his throat. Rick watched Ford from the corner of his eye. He tried to keep things inconspicuous but he was intrigued by Ford's veiled frenzy. Rick's strokes were short and hard.

Ford closed his eyes and allowed himself some quiet panting moans. He ran his tongue over his lips as if he was savoring the flavor of the alcohol. After taking another shaky sip of his drink, Ford opened his eyes and gave Rick a wild, lust filled look. 

"I'm close." He groaned softly. Rick sipped his drink and swallowed, grimacing with the satisfying burn of alcohol. He turned his head to take in Ford's state. He wore a blush high on his cheeks and a sheen of sweat glimmered on his forehead, jewel like in the restaurant's intimate lighting. His chest was rising and falling faster but Ford was doing a decent job of controlling his breathing. Rick could have devoured him then and there.

"Careful. I know what a screamer you can be. Or maybe you want to scream loud enough for this whole place to hear you. That would feel so good, wouldn't it?" He teased. Rick touched his cold glass to Ford's overheated cheek. A bead of sweat traveled down Ford's temple to be absorbed by the condensation on the glass. "If you're gonna cum, cum. But maybe you should be quiet. I know you don't like to cause a scene."

Ford turned his face a bit more to Rick so it would look like they were talking closely. The author's eyebrows knit together in concentration and his eyes closed. For just a moment his mouth dropped open and he could feel his throat preparing the release of a deep loud moan. He snapped his jaw shut and bit hard on his lower lip as Rick's dirty words pushed him over the edge. He made a low strained noise as his cock throbbed, his testicles drawing up tight to the base as he felt himself letting go. A shuddering gasp ripped from his lips and he was coming. A low deep moan started out of him but Ford cut it off with a growl. His body shook as he released himself under the table, in Rick's hand. Ford panted and leaned against Rick as he regained his composure. Rick hummed his approval as Ford's weight fell onto him. Rick casually wiped his hand off on the edge of the table cloth. He lightly slapped Ford's cheek.

"Look alive, come on, come on." He told Ford with a coarse little laugh. Rick sat back in the seat and took a gulp of his drink, still held in that talon-like grip. He rattled the ice and sipped again, trying to get every drop. Slowly Ford's breathing returned to normal. 

"That was.... Very interesting." He said using his napkin to discreetly dab at the sweat on his forehead. He started to lean back against the booth's backrest but stopped when he found the table cloth wouldn't cover him. "May I...." He looked pointedly at the place where his softening penis was hidden.

"Hmm? Oh. Oh, oh yeah. Sure." Rick seemed to have fallen back into his uninterested air. In reality, watching Ford hurdle the challenge Rick had put before him, with some minimal trouble, had been a bit of a turn on. Even the little stumbles and stutters had been hot. Rick had been around the block sexually speaking quite a few times, but there was something about watching and guiding someone through a secret sex act like this; seeing them experience it for the first time that made the whole thing new and risque again.

And Rick had to admit that Ford, for all his stuck up, holier-than-thou ways, was an extremely sexual creature. Whether he realized it or not, that buttoned up demeanor fought to keep a more erotic nature under wraps. In this instance, it had translated into that near silent orgasm and it had been a sight to behold. Ford's mouth had fallen open and all Rick had wanted to do was plunge his tongue into it. With a bit more confidence, Rick could see Ford becoming a bit of a sex god himself. Rick felt like Darth Vader tempting Luke Skywalker to the dark side.

But Rick remained aloof. This was what Ford wanted after all. Someone to use him when he was too keyed up to be responsible for himself any longer. This was their first time out with their new agreement in place and while Rick knew praise was important in a situation such as that, one couldn't be too eager. It was a delicate balance between distance and encouragement.

"That was quite the little show there, beautiful." He said, the slightest hint of a proud purr coloring his words. He fished an ice cube from his glass and slipped it passed Ford's lips. He could feel the heat still radiating off the other man. "And you did that with no one being the wiser. What did that do for you?"

As discreetly as possible Ford tucked himself back in his trousers and zipped up. The author liked to think he didn't react to praise; That it was below him, but coming from Rick it made his chest swell a little and when Rick pressed that piece of ice between his lips, Ford chased those fingers ever so slightly, the tip of his tongue tasting the pads of Rick's fingers. He crunched the ice between his molars and gave Rick a smoldering look. He chewed the ice for a moment as he thought about his answer. 

"I feel accomplished. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would." He said after a moment.

"That's why you let me drive." Rick explained smugly. He was amused by the analytical answer but the touch of Ford's searching tongue on his fingers reinforced that theory of a hidden sexpot behind those glasses and it sent a rush through Rick's skin.

"Y'know, they say people who crunch ice are sexually frustrated." He added. Rick pulled the wedge of lime (at least it was as close as this planet had to a lime) and bit into it, peeling the meat from the portion of lumpy green skin it was attached to with his teeth. He chewed, enjoying the pop and burst of the pulp and the rush of tart flavor filling his mouth. Ford chuckled and took a sip of his drink. 

"After what you've done to me I don't think it's possible to be sexually frustrated." He gave a mischievous grin Rick's way. There had been a few people in his past that had told him that look made him look even more like his brother than usual. When he was first told that it had been a compliment. Nerdy little Ford looked like his sexy rough twin. As he got older he desperately tried to distance himself from his mirror image. Now the thought evaporated as quickly as it had come into Ford's head. 

"Unless you have some other diagnosis, doctor. I assume you have at least one doctorate." Ford said smugly before fishing a piece of ice from his own drink and crunching it between his teeth. Rick was a little taken aback by the rakish look on Ford's face and his thoughts raced back to Oregon Stanford for a moment. It was both exciting and somehow annoying. Rick reminded himself, not for the first time, that he didn't need to get hung up on that version of Stanford he had fucked it up with and that was not the reason he came here to Ford tonight.

"Schools, schools are bullshit brainwashing centers. They do everything but teach. At least not anything that matters. Y-you regurgitate what they tell you to say and-and-and if you do as you're told and you get a gold star and a piece of paper and-a-a-and, I've never gotten anything out of quote unqoute higher learning. You want to waste cash and time? Throw it on a bonfire. At least that has the added benefit of keeping you warm." Rick proclaimed evenly, his train of thought moving too fast for his mouth to keep up. "I-I-I know what I know because I'm smarter than everyone else and that fact that I don't need some asshole in a sweater, in a sweater vest to tell me that proves it."

"Well have to agree to disagree on that." Ford said diplomatically. He almost finished his drink then looked expectantly at Rick as he crunched another hunk of ice between his teeth. One large hand slipped under the table and rubbed Rick's inner thigh close enough to graze the bulge in Rick's crotch. "Shall I ask for the bill so we can leave?" He asked leaving little room for arguments.

Rick was less diplomatic. He scooted out of the booth and stood, only giving a cursory glance around before adjusting himself.

"You can go ahead. Me, I think I'll get out of here." He said indifferently. He took a step back to turn.

"You're not going to come with me?" Ford asked. "It seems counterintuitive not to let me help you with that." 

He tried to cut a roguish look to entice Rick back into the booth as he eyed Rick's crotch and slid another ice cube between his lips. Rick stopped in his tracks and favored Ford with an impish quirk of his eyebrow and placed a hand on his thin hip.

"Don't they say 'always leave em wanting more?'" He offered. His silhouette cut an angular, handsome shape with the lights of the bar behind him. His attitude dripped charisma. To say Ford wasn't happy with the situation would be an understatement. He crunched on his ice and gave Rick a bit of a condescending look before returning to his drink. 

"I suppose they do. Look out for my clues." He said in an unimpressed sort of way. Rick put both hands on the table and leaned in toward Ford.

"Oh, I will. You'll just have to keep chewing that ice until then." He said, his voice issuing a challenge. He undressed Ford with his eyes a moment longer then pushed off the table and strolled out of the building, knowing Ford was watching him the whole way.

 

 

It would be less than a year before Rick found Ford again. It was on a planet known for its abundance of acid rain. A city made up of steel and copper alloys strong enough to not corrode away but still streaked with green patina that mimicked creeping vines on walls where no vegetation could grow. They fucked in the alley behind the cigar bar Ford had chosen, the streets still wet beneath their shoes. Sickly yellow light washed up their twisting bodies and Ford scrambled to push back hard into Rick's moves even as Rick pushed him into the wall. Ford had needed new gloves after that. The wet acid covered walls had eaten holes into the palms.

Their run-ins were infrequent, perhaps once or twice a year. Ford would scribble a cryptic message as to his next meeting place, translating the words into multiple languages then running them through Atbash or Ceaser ciphers. He'd leave the clues scrawled on walls in marker or spray paint and once on a mirror in a men's room in purple lipstick then he'd continue on his way with no way of knowing if Rick would see it, let alone recognize and decode it. Somehow Rick always did.

Most times Rick would be the one to go, sometimes directly after an encounter but usually collapsing to sleep beside Ford and ducking out before the other man woke. Ford never took it personally.

Sometimes, Rick would stay. The record time was one and a half days on Planet Snorlab in one of Ford's myriad safe houses. There was not much small talk and what there was would inevitably lead to more sex. Occasionally when they were relaxing and catching their breath after a particularly vigorous session, Ford would amuse himself with exercises in non-euclidian geometry and other thought experiments as a way to pass the time. The one time he had invited Rick to try his hand at a particularly challenging proof, Rick had explained the answer without the need to write it down. It had been a brief, patronizing explanation and Rick scoffed at its difficulty and the "egghead games" Ford was playing in general. Ford didn't try to involve him much after that. The bouts of sex were punctuated by the few times Rick would step out for cigarettes or take out food. Sometime after noon on the second day, Rick just didn't return and Ford didn't bother looking for him.

When Rick asked Ford once how Ford got around so much for a guy so baffled by portal tech, Ford explained that he had built something he called the "Dimension Hopper". Ford neglected to mention that he had reversed engineered it from Rick's own portal gun. After Ford had put Rick's portal gun back together on their first meeting, he finally understood most of what he needed to do to make something similar for himself. Unfortunately, there were some components he hadn't had quite enough time to look at. This made it hard to reproduce several pieces and Ford was left with the less accurate and shorter ranged device. 

A thick leather band held the brushed silver mechanism to his wrist. This disguised the technology as a large wristwatch. It detected dimensional wavelengths that were close to the space Ford was currently inhabiting and was able to help him shift to it. Once Ford started memorizing the different dimension coordinates it got easier and easier to move around and avoid the places he didn't want to go to. 

There were a few problems of course. Sometimes there would be glitches. Ford could be minding his own business and suddenly The Hopper would start sparking and the next thing he knew he was shifting to a new dimension. Other times he would dial in on one dimension and end up in another he hadn't planned on going to. 

Ford blamed the portal fluid. He had taken some of Rick's but it had been harder than he thought to recreate it. His wasn't the same color as Rick's. It had turned an odd teal and, he found this out after a safe house he was staying in had exploded then imploded in on itself, was much more volatile. Rick had once caught him with the stuff and had screamed at Ford for being stupid enough to deal in "bootleg portal fluid". They fought. It had gotten bad. Ford didn't like to be proven wrong and didn't know how to stop fighting. After that blow up they had added a new command to their game. 

If Ford was going too far Rick would say "watch it." If Ford did not stop his tirade Rick would leave and Ford had to find Rick before he was administered a punishment. With Rick, most of the punishments seemed to push Ford's limits but the author always had his veto if things got too heated. It was the finding that got Ford.

Rick's clues infuriated Ford. They were thought out and very hard. Rick had once told Ford to leave him a minimum of ten clues. He said anything less than that was too easy. This had flustered Ford and annoyed him to his very core. Surely this man, who had a disdain for formal schooling and no degrees, couldn't be smarter than him. The first time Ford had to find Rick it had only been three clues. It had taken Ford almost a year to puzzle them out. It never took Rick more than six months and that was with far more clues to decipher. 

One time Ford really thought he had Rick. His cipher had been dense and multilayered. He was so excited he went as fast as he could (barring the standard confusion and chaos of his Dimension Hopper) to where he was to leave the next clue but before he could do so, a shady looking merchant in the underground bizarre he had chosen asked him if he was Stanford Pines with an air of indifference. Before Ford could get his guard up, the merchant shoved a folded piece of paper at Ford and told him he wasn't interested; that he was just getting paid for an errand. Ford cautiously took the slip of paper and unfolding it, he found one of his own wanted posters with a phrase in code scribbled on it. It took a full night without sleep to decipher it and all it had said was 'Rick was here'.

That was the worst part. Knowing he wasn't the smarter of the two and having Rick know that. That in and of itself was more humiliating and belittling than any punishment Rick could come up with.

Things went on like that for the better part of four years. The two men went about their day to day lives, but the game was always a foot. Rick would stumble across a clue and that, in turn, would reignite the spark for the chase. Sometimes he would follow the trail directly to its conclusion then he would reap his sweet reward. He now and then left his portal gun unattended when he went to sleep. He knew Ford siphoned portal fluid from the bulb and while it wasn't because he had a soft spot for the man (in fact, Rick thought Ford was a bit of a sanctimonious tool) he didn't want the guy to melt his own skin off with his janky bootleg portal fluid. Or worse, have the whole thing go up like a firework in close proximity to Rick. And his funny little interdimensional random button couldn't hold much fluid at a time anyway so it wasn't like Rick was out much. So Rick turned a blind eye when he found his portal gun a little lighter in exchange for keeping their little game going.

There would be times Rick would find one of Ford's clues and follow it only long enough for something else to grab his attention. He'd put the six-fingered man on the back burner until whatever little exploit or experiment had caught Rick's eye had found its conclusion and then when the thought occurred to him, Rick would wind his way back to where he had last left off.

Ford had led Rick to Molluscara Beta when such a distraction had occurred and it hadn't been some fun little adventure this time. There had been fights, fugitives, hostages and explosions and none of those had been the cool kind. In fact, Rick had ended up hurt and hurt badly.  As he laid dazed, his whole body screaming with pain in the spongy vegetation lining the building from which he had just taken a two-story fall, Rick decided it was not his own fault for getting into this mess because it hadn't been his idea to come to Molluscara Beta in the first place. He was in serious trouble, staring death up in the face (if death was a seven-foot slug man looking out a second story window and yelling for his friend to get downstairs because Rick had survived the drop) and it was all because of one man.

It was Rick's delirious, fuming moans of "Stanford! Stanford Pines, you fucking prick! This is all your fault, Stanford!" that had given Rick the idea that there was only one place he could go to lay low and only one person that might harbor him. Rick struggled to pull his portal gun from his coat and fiddled with the input. He was pretty sure he remembered the dimensional coordinates but at that moment 'pretty sure' would have to do. With a grunt and a woosh of air, Rick rolled out of the bushes and fell into a late April evening in Oregon.

It was just under three years before Ford saw Rick again.

After his short summer in Gravity Falls, Rick was hesitant to pick up on Ford's trail for a number of reasons. Chief among them being that Rick was not going to take the chance of returning to Molluscara Beta and risk running into Bonparlo Fin Gloosie with his legs still intact. On top of that, it had been several months and the trail had gone cold. There was no way of knowing where Ford was now or if his most recent set of clues would be valid anymore. On top of all that, Rick had some complex emotions to process and he didn't think a booty call from Mr. Spock would fix anything. Rick wondered, with stupid humor, if Ford was suffering pon farr without him. So Rick went on his way, not actively seeking out new clues from Ford but keeping his eyes open for them. He found nothing. Months passed.

At last, Rick decided to reach out to Ford. He coded only one clue but put it several places. A dimension, a planet, a place and a date six months from when Rick left it. With that done, Rick pushed all versions of Stanford from his mind for the time being and hit the proverbial road until the day came.


	2. Chapter 2

Ford looked up at the hotel's sign above the mechanical powered rotating door. 'The Pulley-agio Resort and Spa' it read. Yup, this was the place. Leave it to Gear World to forgo subtlety completely.

Ford stepped in and only then understood the opulence of the hotel. He adjusted his glasses against the glare of the gold and mirrors of the lobby stretching to the impossibly high atrium. The bustle of posh, well-dressed people and scurrying bell hops was all around him. This place was a far cry from the speakeasies and smokey hole in the wall clubs he and Rick usually found to meet up. Even at their most respectable, Ford had never agreed to meet Rick someplace so ritzy before.

Ford found the bar and took a seat. He waited an hour, slowly nursing his drink, before beginning to entertain the notion that Rick might not be coming. Any number of things could have happened to Rick. It was the nature of both their lifestyles. Until Ford had found the newest clue, he had the slightest inkling that Rick was dead. It had been the better part of two and a half years since they had seen each other. Perhaps Rick had finally run afoul of the wrong person. But then he had found the message written in what looked to be sloppily administered paint on a subway platform and his heart, as much as he hated to admit it, began to race.

But that had been months ago and there was no sign of Rick now. It was very possible that if Rick was still out there that he could have left the clue then had become bored and called their game to a close indefinitely. Ford was more disappointed by that thought than he believed he should have been but tried not to give the emotion too much credence.

Ford left the bar and crossed the lobby with the intention of leaving to find some kind of reasonable shelter for the night when a thought occurred to him. It was preposterous surely, but stranger things had happened.

Ford stepped up to the concierge desk and cautiously told the young gear faced man there that he was looking for Rick Sanchez's room. The porter behind the counter smiled (at least Ford could imagine he smiled based on the upturn of his eyes and the crinkle of his forehead) then informed Ford that Mr. Sanchez was expecting him and to have a lovely evening. He gave Ford a key with a gear-shaped tag attached to it. The hotel's logo was printed on one side and the number 618 on the other.

Ford was taken aback by this. How could Rick, with his chronic transient nature, afford a room in an upscale place like this, ford wondered. Curiouser and curiouser. Ford worried the key tag in his six-fingered hand as he went to the elevator.

When Ford found room 618 he stopped, waiting numbly there a moment. What was waiting behind this door? Ford had absolutely no way of knowing but only one way to find out. The key went into the lock and turned smooth as butter. Ford let himself in.

The room was plush and lavish, done in silver, cream and espresso brown. There was a bed with a wide espresso wood headboard and a comforter so high Ford believed it would have sunk a full foot if he were to press his hand into it. A silver movement of giant gears whirled in hypnotic motion gently high above in the ceiling, filling the room with a soft comforting tick, an avant guard art installation anywhere else but part of standard Gearhead architecture on this planet. A lamp sitting on the dresser was turned on and it spilled golden light into half the room.

Draped over the silver dresser was the familiar sight of Rick's jacket. It had more patches and buttons than Ford had seen on it last time. Leaning up against the side of the dresser was a black faux alligator guitar case or at least Ford supposed that it was faux alligator as it was so covered in stickers and decals, some all but completely covered by the recent additions, there was almost no free real estate left on the case. Ford recognized the rough cartoonist rendering of Mr. Natural with the phrase 'Just Passin Thru...' in red bubbles letters above his head and felt a strange feeling of recollection but he couldn't quite place where. He shook the thought from his head.

Ahead of him, Ford could see a large picture window taking up most of the far wall. It overlooked a stunning view of the city, buildings far below dotted with pinpricks of light. The blue tones of night warred with the warm light of the room.

Seated in dark leather armchair in front of the window was Rick. Ford was surprised to see he was dressed in a white button-down shirt, cuffed to the elbow and open at the throat. His long legs were encased in dark well-fitted denim, free of rips and scuffs. He had even added the touch of a loose fitting cord bracelet on his thin wrist. Rick cleaned up very well when he wanted to, it seemed.

His head was turned to gaze out the window and his elbow sat on the armrest, his fingers lightly touched to his lips. His flask was loosely held out in his other hand. A cigarette in a crystal ashtray smoldered on the side table next to Rick, a single ribbon of blue grey smoke rising hypnotically. Rick's long legs were splayed and his knee bounced impatiently. Ford was suddenly reminded of his lab assistant but banished the man from his mind. Rick looked deep in thought. The hollows of his gaunt face were deepened by the moonlight pouring in from the window. Rick didn't look up when Ford walked in.

Rick looked to the author like some god of a rock star between shows, contemplating life or the next groupie he would invite up to his room. Sexy. Artistic. Powerful. He belonged in this posh room with its comforts and glamour. Could he have found the wrong Rick? Where was the grit he was used to?

Ford saw himself from an angle in the massive mirror over the dresser. He was out of place here. In all black. He stood out against the calm, elegant decor of the room. He felt unsure of himself. He hadn't felt this nervous around someone since college; since before he had found confidence in his intellect. He wiped his sweaty palms on his scruffy black trousers. He supposed he could handle whatever Rick had planned. Maybe this was a new part of the game. 

"Greetings." He said softly to get Rick's attention. Rick's eyes flicked over to Ford at the sound of his voice. He put aside his flask and pulled his fingers through his slicked back hair. He shifted toward Ford and stared. His dark eyes bored into Ford's with cold intensity.

"Hey beautiful." He said quietly. Ford had always thought that Rick was handsome but now it was undeniable. Even though he was headed to sixty he cut a handsome figure. For once in his life, Ford found himself at a loss for words. He had never seen such passion and intensity from Rick turned towards him. Well, he had but that had always ended up in a fight after.

"This - this is certainly a new venue for us, isn't it." He stuttered but smiled a little a bit. "You _are_ Rick C-137, correct?" It was meant as a joke but he also thought it might not be the Rick he was used to. Ford did know Rick's home dimension but pretended not to know his own.

"In the flesh." Rick said. He half grinned and his teeth flashed in the lamplight. He crossed his ankle on his knee and settled back into the chair. Ford noticed that Rick was wearing the studded leather biker boots he had seen on his feet on more than one occasion. That helped to solidify who this Rick was. "You were expecting someone else?"

The flask and burning cigarette sat forgotten as Rick continued to examine his third favorite vice.

That was more like it. The way Rick's eyes moved over Ford might set others on edge but this felt more like the lustful man he knew.

"No, but this is much nicer than where we usually meet is all." He stepped over and placed a hand on the other chair adjacent to Rick's. "I assumed your tastes didn't run towards luxury. May I?" Ford gestured to the empty chair. It was always better to ask permission around Rick.

"I can't do something nice for you? It's been quite a while. I figured it's a little treat for you by way of saying welcome back." Rick threaded his fingers together in front of his chin and he made no show of hiding his profound gaze as Ford crossed to the other chair. When asked Rick didn't look away but paused as if he were thinking on it. At last, he shrugged and motioned to the seat throwing in an ambiguous nod of his head. "Do you remember the last time you slept in a bed that nice?"

Ford blinked and looked over at the bed. He smiled back at Rick looking coyly at his companion.

"Can't say I ever have." Ford answered. He slipped off his goggles and handkerchief and tucked them into one of the pockets of his jacket. He slipped that off and tossed it over the back of the chair. He elected not to sit. Ford assumed he wouldn't have long before they moved to the bed. "And you? Do you secretly live a lavish lifestyle when we aren't together?"

Rick laughed and it was a low rolling calculated sound. From anyone else's lips, it would have sounded false and contrived but Rick had enough presence to pull it off flawlessly.

"Don't I wish. Don't worry, I'm not holding out on you. If I was loaded I'd give you at least a little of the sugar daddy treatment." He told Ford. "And just to be clear, there will be no sleep in that bed tonight. Shouldn't be a problem. You're used to all-nighters, huh?"

"I've pulled my fair share of those. It's been too long." His eyes traveled from Rick's eyes to his lips and he smirked. "I'm sorry I wasn't up here sooner but I wasn't expecting you to have a room."

"Been years. Couple hours more won't make much difference." Rick's tone seemed to invoke disinterest but Rick could feel the electricity ricochetting through the air between them. Rick licked his lips, the barest tip of his pale tongue peeking out. "Well then, let's get started."

He then lifted an arm and very purposefully pointed at the floor in front of him. It was the disciplinary movement of a parent who was more than ready to correct their child for their poor behavior.

"Here. Strip. Slow." He instructed. He uncrossed his legs and stretched them out comfortably. Rick began to count, not quickly but with a strong clear tempo. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five..."

Ford felt his breath hitch as Rick started counting. He stepped confidently in front of Rick. He knew Rick liked to watch him undress and he had gotten very good at it. He stood between Rick's legs, close enough that Rick could touch if he wanted to but not to impede the undressing process. His arms crossed in front of him and in unhurried movements he stripped the shirt upward and off. He wanted to let Rick take in the movements of his body, how the muscles shifted under the skin. He turned the sweater right side in and folded it before tossing it on the chair that was holding his coat. He toed off his boots and kicked them to the side. His hands slid down his torso and rested on the waistband of his trousers. From the corner of his eye, Ford noticed the large window was uncovered. With the lights on, their room was like a showcase. Anyone could look in and see. The thought aroused him but also terrified him.

"May I pull the curtains?" He asked as he waited to unbutton his pants.

"Did I say close the curtains? Six. Seven..." Rick replied raising his voice sternly. He saw the apprehension refuse to leave Ford's face and he sneered. He pointed to the lamp a few steps away from Ford. 

"Eight. Nine. Ten..." Rick continued, communicating that if Ford was prudish enough to not take what was being offered the night would not progress. Ford quickly took the hint and turned the lamp off, plunging the room into the ambient light of the moon and the city, blue and cold. Rick pointed back at Ford's previous spot impatiently, snapping his fingers for good measure.

In the dark, Ford felt more confident. He stood in front of Rick and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He made a breathy moan as he pushed his trousers down his hips. Another little push and his half erect cock slid out. He bit his lip and removed the last of his clothing. He folded the pants then stood before Rick. He had not been told to kneel so he stood on display to Rick. His slowly hardening cock twitched as he watched Rick devour him with his eyes.

Rick went silent when Ford continued to undress. He picked up the cigarette and took a drag. As he exhaled the smoke surged forward and dispersed as it hit the wall of Ford's stomach. Rick smiled and the last of the smoke issued from his nose. Rick put the cig down and pushed himself up out of the chair. What height he had on Ford, he used to look down at him. Rick stood, deliberately not touching Ford, but a breath away. It was when Rick moved to take a step closer that Ford made a mistake. On instinct, his began to take a step back.

Rick used the opportunity to catch Ford off guard. He reached out like a striking snake and seized Ford by the arm. He quickly turned the man and stood him in front of the mirror. He stood behind Ford, his arm around Ford's throat in a headlock. Rick's other hand still held Ford's bicep in a vice grip. Ford looked at the two of them in the mirror's reflection. His body was tense and stretched in the grapple Rick had him in and the peaks and valleys of Ford's well-honed muscles caught the sparse light and shadow. Years of training and upkeep were visible on Ford not only in the form of his taut physique but in the scars of close calls and the dark ink of the tattoos down his arms and over onto his back.

Rick pressed his fully clothed form against Ford from behind looking over Ford's shoulder at the sight in the mirror.

"You see this?" Rick purred in Ford's ear. "Tell me what you see..."

Ford's eyes locked with Rick's in the mirror. His breathing had sped up with the other man's rough handling. This felt good. It felt like old times again. 

"I see us." Ford began. "I'm naked. I want you."

Rick laughed and it was bitter. The vibration rode through Ford's body. Rick's hand released Ford's arm and traveled down the expanse of his tattoed arm. It came to land on Ford's hip and brushed the ridge of Ford's prominent pelvic bone.

"There's no us." Rick said and there was a bit more acute vitriol in his voice than usual. "Don't bother with putting me in the picture. Tell me again what you're looking at."

Ford blushed bright red. "I didn't intend it in that way." He gave Rick a pointed look in the mirror before taking a breath and starting again.

"I see myself. I'm naked. I have tattoos and scars. I have a muscular build. My hair is graying. I wear glasses. My eyes are brown." Ford said. It was analytical and somewhat detached. He took a breath. He spoke lower and with intent. "My nipples are hard and peaked. My skin is flushed with arousal. My penis is erect. "

Rick sighed in a long suffering way. Even in this, the man spoke like stereo instructions. Rick pushed on, brushing his nose into Ford's hair and speaking clearly but softly in his ear.

"And how does that make you feel? Seeing yourself like this?" He asked. Ford blinked a few times. Feelings had never played into their games before. His feelings were irrelevant.

"I feel.... Sexy?" Ford started. "I feel aroused. Desired."

Rick gave a roll of his hips against Ford, his clothes not hiding the hot hardness in his jeans and it rubbed against Ford's ass. He hummed his satisfaction and his eyes locked with Ford's a moment before Rick turned his head to kiss Ford's ear.

"Are you saying that because you believe it? Or because you think it's what I want to hear?" He whispered. His fingertips ghosted over Ford's lower belly, softly dusted with hair and rested his hand deliberately on the skin just above Ford's member. A soft sigh escaped Ford's lips at Rick's touch. His head leaned back as far as Rick's arm would allow. 

"I know better than to do that to you." Ford groaned. His hands slid back and gripped Rick's outer thighs. He pushed his ass back to rub harder against Rick. Lies never went over well. Rick always knew. Sometimes Ford could get away with a half truth but even those didn't go over well. Ford had never been the proficient liar that Stanley was. 

Rick felt his member strain against his pants and he growled a pleasured sound. His nails scratched lightly at Ford's skin but Rick made a special effort not to touch Ford's hardness. The arm around Ford's neck held on a little tighter, not hard enough to hinder Ford's breathing but still asserting the hold Rick had on the other man. It forced Ford to lift his head up.

"Ah, ah ah..." Rick teased "Keep looking. Take a good long look. You like seeing yourself like this, don't you? On display. Showing off that perfect body. Not just a just a stuck up little nerd, huh? You're a dirty little pervert, just like me. Aren't you?"

Rick's heart hammered in his chest and his desire for the man in his embrace was all but palpable.

"Not the words I'd use but I would say my desires mirror your own." He held Rick's gaze in the mirror and smirked. "I will admit that I'm somewhat embarrassed in my need for you and the vanity of my own body." He could feel Rick's heart beating hard against his back. He could feel Rick's need for him. "It is also very arousing to be on display. To let you see my need."

"Then maybe you should learn to talk like it, Spock." Rick moaned. It was stricken with lust, yes, but there was also something else there. Something akin to annoyance. "You sexy fuck. If you think you look good, say it. Be crude, be dirty. I know you got it in you. Do you really want to be momma's good little boy forever? Christ, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Ford ground back harder against Rick.

"I can feel what I do to you." He moaned. "Would you want me still if I was crude like you? I think you'd get bored if you corrupted me. I'm not you, Rick."

Rick felt a sour pang of something at that. He knew very well who Ford wasn't. Rick turned Ford around and pressed him against the dresser. Rick braced his hands on the countertop on either side of Ford, putting their bodies together and looked into Ford's face, dangerous and searching.

"Why are you fighting me so hard tonight?" He asked. His tone was low and suspicious. Ford blinked and, without knowing it, took on quite the innocent doe-eyed expression.

"That wasn't my intention. I was answering your questions honestly." His eyes scanned Rick's face. There was something there he hadn't seen before and there was something dangerous about it. Ford just couldn't put one of his many fingers on it. "What are you looking for, Rick? I'll give it to you if you tell me."

He bucked his hips forward ever so slightly and tilted his head just a little to look up at the other man. Rick stared at Ford, his expression seeming to cycle through several stages of deep thought. The process looked involved to Ford. He could see frustration there and something else that to Ford's dismay could have been regret and perhaps even apprehension. Rick pursed his lips, creasing them into a miserable line beneath his nose. His eyes flicked down to Ford's lips then back up. There was an almost hypnotized quality to Rick's actions now.

Rick lifted his hand to Ford's face and Ford expected Rick to pull his hair or take him by the throat. Instead, Rick brushed his fingers through the hair at Ford's temple and left his palm cradling Ford's cheek. He came in slow, eyes slipping shut in a calm expression and Rick kissed Ford. Not forcefully or with hunger but soft and tender. His slightly parted lips touched Ford's own, full but not lustful.

Ford allowed himself to be kissed softly. His eyes were open as Rick kissed him in this new way. Soft and giving as it was, it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was quite nice but it was new territory for them. After a moment he kissed back, sliding his tongues into Rick's mouth Ford tried to steer them back towards their standard interactions. He grabbed Rick's hips and kissed back passionately, needy and hungry for the other man.

Rick pulled away and breathed in a hectic needy whisper "Please... Let me, just let me-" But it was all he could manage before he dove back in to kiss Ford again. He tried to lead Ford back to the slow burning pace, not opening his mouth to Ford's aggressive tongue and moving his mouth gently and delicately. He removed one of Ford's hand from his hip and brought it close to his chest. After a moment he rested it there, his hands pressed over Ford's folded one. Rick ran his thumb over Ford's cheek in a soothing way.

Ford stopped trying to push Rick deeper into the kiss. This was intimate and searching. The two men had never had a dynamic like this before. The norm was witty barbs exchanged between bouts of passionate need. This was soft and fragile, two words Ford would never have associated with Rick. 

This was a puzzle. There were few things Ford liked more than a puzzle. Perhaps this was a new game Rick had devised for them. The author decided if he was going to solve this one he would need more of the pieces and there was only one way to get them. Ford unclenched the hand against Rick's chest. He rested his palm against the thin man's breast bone as he closed his eyes. He kissed back slowly. He let Rick lead as he always did which felt good and he let out a soft sound as they kissed. 

It was an odd feeling to Ford. Like an unused muscle. Weak and painful but the stretch felt good. When was the last time he had kissed like this? Surely it had been long ago. Rick wound his arms around Ford's shoulders and held him as they continued the kiss. It was not the grapple, not the hard attack Ford had come to expect but an honest to God embrace. Their chest rose and fell out of time, expanding against each other as they shared breath.

"...Stanf-ford..." Rick said softly into Ford's mouth. The stutter was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there betraying Rick and his jangled nerves. He gave a moan that was close to needy. Rick had never said his name once things became sexual before. The teasing pet names were gone and the sound of his name made this real. Even then Ford kept searching. Searching for the puzzle piece and the lost memory.

Rick was lost in the moment. He was somewhere far away. He drank the kisses from Ford's lips like he was savoring a rare vintage. He wasn't thinking when he spoke. The words fell unbidden from his mouth. Something running on instinct.

"God, you're beautiful, Stanford..." He whispered.

As Rick said his name the memory flooded back. The street lamp was the only light and they had to be quiet because neither of them knew how bad it would be if they were found out. 

The hot mouth on Ford's had broken away and breathlessly a gruff voice had whispered to him in the semi-darkness. "It's no fair how beautiful you are, Stanford." before kissing him like he was the beginning and end of everything in the world. 

Stanley. It had been Stanley. 

Ford pushed Rick away and his eyes darted over Rick's face.

"What are you doing? Is this a new game?" He asked breathlessly. Ford's words had caused Rick to plummet back down to reality. He abruptly released Ford and took a step back. His mouth worked soundlessly a moment before he spoke.

"Nuh- ah, n-no!" Rick stammered and screwed his eyes shut as if trying to think. "No, it's not..."

Ford's heart was thumping. This wasn't part of the game. Rick had meant the soft touches and kind words.

"Then why?" Ford asked. "I didn't agree to that. I don't want that from you." He regretted those words as soon as he said them.

Rick had done it. He had done it to himself again. Like the first time he had slept with Ford, Rick had talked himself into believing that Ford would be a passable replacement for Oregon Stanford. Only this time it was a hundred times worse. It wasn't Rick projecting onto Ford about a fling that had ended badly or could have been something more. This was Rick bringing himself to hope that it was possible to rekindle a romance with a completely unaware alternate version of the man he was desperately in love with.

Rick had hoped that it had been long enough. More than two years of avoidance and another six months of denial and unwillingness to think about it should have been more than enough. He had convinced himself that when Ford walked through the door, Rick would fall right back into his domineering ways. It would be like riding a bicycle. But then he had seen Ford's face, the same face as the man he had loved so passionately and was not ready to really let go of yet, and it had crumbled around his ears. No amount of booze or mental pep talks (and a heavy dose of self-deprecation) sitting in that armchair for the previous two hours could've dissuaded Rick from the nagging feeling that this was a stupid idea and that he wouldn't be able to handle this.

This wasn't about sex. Rick had badly wanted this to be about sex. Rick usually didn't have a problem separating sex and love. But standing here, in this beautiful room and wearing these elegant clothes, Rick felt idiotic. What in the hell did he think he was doing? In what dimension did he think Ford would want him beyond their initial carnal arrangement?  For Christ sake, Oregon Stanford had emphatically told Rick how much he loved Rick and still had ended things on the grounds that Rick wasn't good enough yet. Despite his own inner turmoil, Ford's words seemed to hit Rick upside the head. He scrambled for a response but came up empty.

"I-I-I thought... I don't know what I thought..." He sputtered.

This was all highly illogical. As the thought entered Ford's head he was glad he didn't say it out loud. He had already earned the monicker of Spock from Rick and didn't want to encourage it.

"You disappeared for so long. Now this. What happened?" Ford didn't want to push Rick away completely. He wanted what they had before. A sexual contract with a being the other could trust. Ford would admit he had been lonely without Rick. His interactions with other life forms were furtive and short lived. Rick was a constant. One that actually comforted him in an odd way.

"Nothing happened!" Rick snapped and knew the moment he said it how unconvincing it sounded. He tried to backpedal. "I don't know what I was trying to do. I wanted you- I wanted this to be... Fuck! I'm a goddamm idiot!"

Rick fisted his hair by the roots and growled a short sound of frustration. Ford reached out and grabbed the edge of Rick's sleeve.

"Look at me. It doesn't matter. Look at me, Rick." He pulled the man to him and looked into his face. "Forget it. It is unimportant. We can go back to the way it was."

"Can we? For christ sake, should we?" Rick didn't know what he was saying, but Ford was looking at him with those eyes and all Rick could hear was rain beating on a tin porch roof. "Look at you. You're the only person I've ever met who even came close to keeping up with me. You're just as smart and sexy and powerful as me and you can't see the potential there? You're gonna just be content with back alley fucks twice a year? When we could have it all? Can you really tell me that's all you want?"

Ford was stunned. Was Rick offering fidelity, perhaps even love? Ford didn't want to love Rick. He was jealous of him. Both of his intellect and his encounter with Stanley. Ford wanted to hate Rick for his baseness and yet his admiration for Rick's inventive, adventurous spirit kept it from being true hatred. There could be no basis for love in that. 

Rick took Ford's face in his hands. He was doing his best to convince himself of something dangerous again and he hoped he could convince Ford of the same.

"We could turn the universe upside down if we teamed up. It could be more. We could be more. You gotta trust me..." Rick pulled Ford in for another kiss.

Ford's eyes were wide as he looked up at Rick. This was not the first time an intimate acquaintance had dangled power and glory over his head in exchange for his trust. Flashes of Bill with his flattery and promises came to Ford. His greatest failure. Trust no one. 

"No!" Ford pushed back against Rick as the other man tried once again to kiss him. "I don't want more from you." He pulled out of Rick's grasp. He stood there naked before Rick. "I have never wanted more than what we've had."

Rick felt his stomach drop. His fingers felt numb. He was embarrassed and insulted and angry. Angry with Ford but more so with himself. Rick's self-loathing was down to an art, but hearing it reflected in Ford's words was a real blow to Rick. As it often did, Rick's anger had an inability to remain stagnant inside him and demanded to be set loose on the nearest target.

"I shouldn't be fucking surprised. You're more heartless than me and that's saying something. You only care about yourself. About what you can get out of this. If I was dieing on the street you'd step over me. Unless I had my dick out..." Rick added that barb as if it had venom and he was aiming for Ford's heart.

"Me!? I'm heartless!?" Ford exclaimed in shock. "I'm the heartless one, Rick? At least I'm doing something with my time in the multiverse. I'm trying to save it. You're just sleeping your way from planet to planet and drinking each dimension dry." Ford got right into Rick's space and jabbed one of his many fingers against Rick's chest. "All that knowledge and you waste it." Ford was angry. All the things he kept bottled up about Rick that bothered him were finally coming to the surface. "You're a selfish lush. Useless."

Rick's hand shot out and he grabbed Ford by the cock. He sneered into Ford's face like an audacious dare. Ford was still mostly hard after all of this, to Rick's disgust and delight.

"I don't think I'm all that useless to you. I think you get a lot of use out of me." Rick pressed his chest to Ford's and could feel his heart pounding like a jackhammer. "You don't know shit about me, what I've done, and you don't deserve to. I drink and smoke and fuck around because I'm a coward. But so are you. That's what humans are. Animals too smart to act like animals and too dumb to not let that affect us. We didn't grow legs and crawl out of the ocean to achieve some higher purpose. We did it to run away from the things with teeth that were swimming in it. News flash, Rambo. The multiverse doesn't want to be saved. It's flushing itself into oblivion and I'm the only person smart enough to swim with the current. The real question here is what's keeping a guy as fucking brilliant as you from figuring out the same?"

Ford opened his mouth to say something but Rick cut it off.

"Don't you tell me it's morals, Stanford. If you had morals you wouldn't be standing here in a hotel room with your prick in the hand of a selfish lush. And you wouldn't be getting hard because he's yelling in your face about how cosmically speaking you're a sack of shit."

"You make me weak, Rick." Ford groaned. He could push away. He could have used his safe word but he didn't want to. He still craved Rick. He gripped Rick's biceps. "You make wallowing in your own disgusting self-deprecation look enticing. I keep coming back to you because if I can indulge the pathetic human part of me that needs to turn off so I can focus better when you're gone, I will." Ford leaned into Rick, his own thigh rubbing between Rick's legs. "I'll admit to my weakness. I do need you but you're weak too. You must be weak if you think I'd love you just because you're a decent fuck." Ford gave Rick a dark, mean smirk. "Are you satisfied now? Is it everything you thought it'd be? "

"Not hardly." Rick said and his voice was much calmer than it should have been. Quick as a flash, Rick let go of Ford and grabbed his opposite wrist. Stepping back and yanking hard, Rick twisted the other man around and, grabbing both shoulders, slammed Ford down over the dresser. Rick twisted Ford's arm behind his back, throwing his weight into the man beneath him then took a handful of Ford's hair and pulled, bringing his face up to the mirror.

"This what you want? Hard, dirty?" Rick spat harshly. "Go ahead. Tell me to stop. Use your veto. Olly olly oxen free..."

Ford gritted his teeth and glared at Rick in the mirror.

"No?" Rick cooed facetiously. His other hand came around and held Ford by the jaw to keep him from looking away. He draped himself over Ford. His voice was serious as death. "Then say it. Tell me what you want from me."

Ford pushed his hips back into Rick's.

"Fuck me." He growled. "That's all I want from you."

"Tell me how. Beg me to fuck you."

"Rough. Hard. So you remember that there is no us." Ford said low and dangerous. "Make me turn off. Make me stop thinking. That's all you're good for."

Rick let go of Ford's head, pushing it away roughly. He reached behind Ford and deftly undid his jeans. He quickly freed his cock from the confines of his briefs. He spit in his hand and stroked himself for cursory lubrication. He kicked Ford's legs apart, took him by the hip and pushed in hard. He gave Ford no time to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace. His fingers dug into Ford's hips.

Ford bit back a sharp sound of pain. It hurt but he wouldn't let Rick have that satisfaction. He gripped the edge of the dresser under him, his head down. Soft grunts escaped Ford with each thrust. This is what he wanted. Ford wanted to feel Rick's selfishness. Feel his anger and hatred at the world because Ford could not let himself feel that so acutely.

Rick put his arm around Ford's throat and pulled his head up in a possessive hold. He panted in Ford's ear as he continued to grind into him.

"Aw no...You're going to look. You're going to watch me fuck you...." He barked. He rolled his hips and groaned a lewd sound of pleasure. Rick was hitting that place inside Ford expertly. It didn't make the pain go away but it did soften it. Turned it into something different. He could see the flush on his face as Rick touched him so deep inside. Ford hated himself for liking this; wanting this. He kept his teeth clenched and his gasps of pleasure to a minimum but he looked because Rick told him to look. He looked because he liked what he saw.

Rick pounded into Ford in a way that said there would be no quarter. He watched Ford with an unveiled lust. He tilted Ford's neck back that much more and sucked the man's earlobe into his mouth. His teeth worried the flesh and Rick groaned around it.

"You like that?" He puffed in Ford's ear at last "You like it when I fuck you in the ass like that?"

"Ah!" Ford didn't want to answer but it felt so good. One of his hands moved back and gripped Rick's hip. "Yes." He finally breathed after another minute of Rick's hard pounding and hot mouth. "Yes. I like it." He could feel himself surrendering. He was fighting a losing battle now.

"Then scream it! You're weak and heartless just like me? Then be a dirty fucker like me too!" Rick moaned. His muscles were starting to burn with the unrelenting pace but he ignored it. He brought his hand down on Ford's flank in a hard slap and held on, fingers pressing into the supple flesh.

"I'm not like you." Ford groaned. He moved his hips back into Rick's. "You do this to me. Ah yes! Damn! You make me weak. You're poison." Ford shuddered under Rick. A guttural moan ripped its way out of Ford's throat. He flushed all over in embarrassment. "You just feel so goddamn good!"

"Poison always feels good going down..." Rick growled. His shirt was beginning to stick to his shoulders and was going transparent in patches with his sweat. He breathed hard and grunted in time to his thrusts. Rick took his pleasure, using Ford's body and giving him what he wanted.

Ford's back arched. The hand on Rick's hip gripped tighter and the other hand finally let go of the dresser. He reached up and back to grab a fist full of white material on Rick's shirt. His eyes shut as he gasped and moaned incoherently. Ford shamelessly ground back on Rick. He was getting so close. Frantic moans increased in volume each time they spilled past his lips.

"That's it...take it! Take it hard, you little slut..." Rick gasped in Ford's ear. He watched Ford in the mirror and relished the man's expression of exquisite guilty bliss. Rick's thrusts were becoming more erratic and fitful by the second but Rick focussed on Ford's wanton cries and did his best to push himself that much longer. "Do you want to cum? You want me to make you cum?"

"Yes..!" Ford moaned. He was lost. Rick was in his veins and any self-respect he had left was gone in that moment. "Please! Please make me cum, Rick!" He could feel his cock throbbing between his legs with each thrust.

Rick took his arm from around Ford's head and reached beneath the two of them to take Ford's cock in his hand. He twisted his hand on it, keeping the same punishing rhythm as his thrusts. Rick was frantic and angry and satisfied with the way he had broken down Ford's stubborn snobbishness with the one thing he knew he had over Ford. The laws of biology and evolution deemed they were animals but out of the two of them only Rick was willing to be an animal. Selfish and greedy and violent. Ford needed to be taught that.

Ford looked into the mirror of his own accord. He watched their faces full of lust and anger. He was falling apart before his own eyes. Ford was being replaced by this needy creature. Only Rick could do this alchemy, this complete change of who he was down to his core but it was good not having to be the hero for even a few minutes. 

"I'm cumming!" He gasped as his thighs shook. "Fuck! Feels good! Ah! Yes!"

Rick grit his teeth in an affected sneer. Sweat rolled down the small of his back and beaded on his temples. He hit his fist into Ford's thigh the way someone who is unhappy with a business deal might put their fist on the table for emphasis. The strike to his thigh brought Ford back down, so close to orgasm but not over the edge. Rick struggled to maintain but Ford's tightness was incredible and the unfeeling pace was barreling up on him. Still, he had to switch off the all important mind that Ford was so protective of

"Yeah? You're gonna cum?" Rick's voice was gravelly and afflicted but still exuded power. "Who's making you cum, Ford?"

"You are, Rick." Ford groaned.

"Then you better fucking say thank you! S'only thing I'm good for? That's what you said, right? Thank me for it!" Rick shouted and it devolved into a guttural groan of carnal pleasure. Ford's hand let go of Rick's shirt and grabbed the edge of the dresser again. He didn't want to say it. Rick didn't deserve it but he has been so conditioned to react in the way Rick wanted that Ford knew he'd have to say it.

"T-thank you!" Ford moaned and a guttural animal-like cry came from him as his cock throbbed one more time and his orgasm spilled over Rick's hand and the front of the dresser.

Rick pounded into Ford, hitting his over-stimulated prostate and moaned raggedly at the feeling of Ford clenched all around him. Rick pushed Ford's face down, his cheek against the dresser and laid into him hard a minute more before he came hard.

"Fuck!!" He uttered hoarsely. Rick panted hard, his chest rising and falling and the air whistling through his thin frame. Ford laid there under Rick. The other man's weight, even slight as it was, felt reassuring and suffocating at the same time. He panted, tried to catch his breath and bring his mind back from the shattered mess Rick left it in.

Rick let go of Ford's dripping length and before he let go of the back of Ford's head, wiped his cum covered hand off down Ford's sweating back. Rick pulled out of Ford and let him go. He stepped away, observing the way Ford's body sagged as he held himself up against the dresser with a modicum of cold enjoyment. It was a fleeting and on the whole unsatisfying feeling.

Ford gasped as he felt Rick wipe his semen down his back. That was the last indignity. If Rick was done, so was Ford. He pushed himself up and tried not to look like he was still shaking as he quickly walked over and snatched his pants off the floor.

Rick had already tucked himself into his pants and grabbed his coat and the guitar case from the dresser. He slung the coat over his shoulder and looked at Ford with a callous distaste. 

"Don't bother. Enjoy the bed. A little something from your sugar daddy." He spat. Ford didn't look back as Rick left, slamming the door behind him. He dropped his pants back on the floor and went into the bathroom. The water was scalding but Ford stayed under it for a long time. The bed was soft and plush but Ford didn't sleep much. 

It would be two years before Ford left Rick another clue. There were sugar packets littered throughout the multiverse with requests to meet in dead alien languages run through an obscure code. 

When the day came Ford would be remiss if he didn't say he was surprised when a tall slim man in a blue shirt with wild hair slid into the seat next to him at the bar. It was tense at first but they fell into their old practices quickly. It was an unspoken rule that Gear World was off limits. No clues. No meetups. No mention. And so they went on.


	3. Chapter 3

Ford walked down the streets under the heavy press of strangers. After years on the run, he found that sometimes it was good to go someplace highly populated and blend into the crowd. His connections with the resistance had led him to this parallel Earth dimension. As of that moment, he had not found what made it parallel to his own just yet but it looked pretty normal to the author.

Christmas Eve in New York City. There was an extra feeling of excitement in the air as it was the end of a millennium. The beginning of a new time but it all whizzed past Ford in his exhaustion. He's been running from bounty hunters for days now. Little sleep and less food had been available. Everything hurt and he was hoping to get to the safe house in the very near future. He needed rest. He needed to get warm. 

He looked up at the street signs and observed the gently falling snow. It would have been picturesque if Ford wasn't feeling so run down. He thought of childhood winters in Glass Shard Beach. His mother always tried to make Hanukkah special for him and his brother. She wouldn't always remember to say the blessing and light the candles every night but they would always have them lit by the end of the week. His father was unimpressed as he always was. Gifts generally consisted of needed items; socks or school supplies. Nevertheless it was still a magical time and one in which Ford would rather be than where he was now. 

Ford sneezed. Then he sneezed again and again. By the time he pulled himself together, there were several people looking at him. Ford was never good with attention. He pulled his hood a little higher and turned down a street. 

People were laughing and chatting around him. A little girl giggled as she ran past Ford. She was holding her father's hand and he was smiling. Ford watched them for a moment before turning to look in the window of a small café. A young couple was smiling and chatting at the table by the window. They looked happy and warm. A small pang of regret shot through Ford's heart. His motto of "trust no one" had been problematic at best lately. He was lonely. The adventures had been exciting and fun at the beginning but now he longed for something akin to stability or at least one constant in his life. 

He sneezed again before hurrying on his way.  He just had to make it to the safe house and he could focus on refreshing himself. Ford didn't often have permanent bases of operation. The loft on Lottocron Nine had been a fluke he had lucked in on. Most times when bouncing from world to world he had to make due in the cheapest hotel rooms and hostels or, when cash ran out or just wasn't considered legal tender in his current dimension, beneath urban overpasses or in the rural wilderness. That's why Ford considered himself very lucky when he could find resistance contacts in a new dimension and would graciously accept a space in one of their safe houses. There were such places all over the universe to house people in the rebellion. It was never anything beyond the basic; always inconspicuous but they had clean beds and running water and blessed secrecy from anyone looking to harm Ford. Sometimes they ran low on space and people had to stay together but Ford was usually glad for the company. Perhaps he would have some companions in the safe house this time.

Luck wasn't on Ford's side. The apartment was a small studio, shabbily decorated with a timeworn couch and a small television set on a small table. Behind the couch was a simple kitchen table with mismatched plastic chairs. There was a small kitchenette and a bathroom with only a tub and a toilet. Nonchalantly Ford tossed his rucksack onto the couch. A Murphy bed folded out of one wall and an old alarm clock sat on a table near where the bed folded out. Ford set it up and went to search the kitchen. There wasn't much there and Ford was too tired and sore to cook. He was rather surprised that he had little appetite. He supposed he was more tired than hungry. A long nap would do him some good and when he got up in a few hours he'd make himself a nice if not sparse meal from the preserved foods in the pantry. He removed his clothes and collapsed into bed. He was unconscious in moments.

When Ford woke up it felt like his head was pounding. He vaguely remembered waking up hours before, shaking from the cold. He had grabbed a blanket that felt like it must have weighed a hundred pounds from the small linen closet and thrown it on the bed before collapsing back into it. 

Now he was shaking and sweating, his breath came in short wheezes and every inch of his body hurt. As hard as he tried, Ford couldn't push the blankets off him. He squinted at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Ford almost couldn't believe what he was reading. It was a quarter past three in the afternoon on December 25th. He was relatively sure he had first laid down around noon the day before. 

Ford tried to take a deep breath in preparation to push himself out of the bed but it only triggered a coughing fit. Ford could feel the mucus rattling around in his chest but the cough was dry. His whole body shook and his eyes watered. Gasping for breath between fits, Ford wondered if it was ever going to stop. 

Finally, the fits subsided and he felt exhausted again. His ribs were throbbing almost as bad as his head and his mouth was so dry his tongue felt like sandpaper. The sheets stuck to his sweaty skin and Ford had never been so hot and so cold in his life. 

The realization that he could be dying came to Ford and it made him feel somewhat bitter. He had survived so many hazardous dimensions and bounty hunters and even Bill Cipher but a germ and improper self-care seemed to be what was going to end this grand adventure. He was scared and very sad. It had never occurred to him that all this time he could die alone. No one would know to mourn him. Stanley would never know what happened to him. 

That thought was so painful to Ford and he was surprised that it could cause such an emotional reaction. Stan had always been the caretaker. He'd bring Ford food while he worked on a project. He made Ford lay down and sleep. He reminded Ford that there was more to life than science and academics. There were beaches to walk and waves to jump and salty kisses to steal under the cover of the pier. It had been so long since Ford had missed Stan this deeply and he would give anything to have his brother with him now. 

The author tried to push himself up again but his muscles protested and he was just too weak. He collapsed back onto the bed and lay there trying to breathe.

"Stanley." He whimpered as tears collected in his feverish vision. "Stanley. Stanley, please." He begged the empty room. 

That's when he heard the door open and the heavy footfalls. Through the fever fueled haze, Ford swore he saw Stan. Stanley, in his greaser style white shirt and jeans and that ever-present smile, walked over to the bed and placed his large hand on Ford's forehead. Ford struggled until he could free one arm. He grabbed Stanley's wrist, intent on pulling his brother close but once his hand encircled that wrist he knew it couldn't be Stan. It was far too thin. The vision of Stan before him melted into the familiar form of Rick Sanchez.

Rick looked down at Ford with an unreadable mishmash of concern, exasperation and disquiet painted across his features.

"Of course you caught it, idiot." He said. Rick moved his palm from Ford's forehead to his cheek, checking the severity of the fever he knew Ford had. Rick had worn his gloves but even then the late December cold had bitten through the faux leather. He had taken them off before reaching out to Ford and he figured the frigidity of his hand must have been soothing to the sick man. When Rick's cold fingers touched Ford's cheek, he sighed and tilted his face into the touch.

"Rick..." He croaked. He hadn't realized how raw his throat felt until now. Another coughing fit racked his body and he clutched his ribs under the blankets.

"You were expecting maybe Neils Bohr?" Rick said. A rough kind of grimness colored Rick's regularly biting humor as he looked Ford over. He spoke and while it was directed at Ford, it seemed that Rick was more talking about the man than to him "You _have_ got it bad, huh?"

Rick looked at a device in his hand before turning to step away from the bed. As Rick started to pull away Ford gripped his wrist tighter.

"No." He said. He was scared. If Rick left he wasn't going to survive. He needed help. Rick stood over Ford, his dark eyes studying the man's bleary, confused own. He didn't smile or do anything else to put Ford at ease, just spoke calmly and without question. It was almost like the tone Rick used to dominate Ford but this was perhaps more gentle, even forgiving.

"If we don't do something to cool you down you might be looking at brain damage. I'll be back."

The tone calmed Ford. He slowly let go of Rick's hand and rested it on the mattress. A quick thought that he might be better trained than he thought ran through his head. He nodded to Rick and closed his eyes. God, he was so tired.

Rick sighed. Ford couldn't tell if it was the result of irritation or perplexity. After giving Ford a last once over, Rick walked to the other side of the tiny apartment. He pulled off his leather jacket tossing it on the back of the couch and pushed the sleeves of his dark teal roll neck sweater up to the elbow. Rick passed through the kitchenette, leaving the device on the table and ducked into the bathroom. Ford heard the water turn on in the tub. The sound was distant as if Ford were hearing it through a long tunnel. A few minutes later Rick was back at Ford's bedside.  

"Can you walk?" He asked plainly. He pulled the sheets back and away from Ford's body. He had not been expecting the man to be nude beneath. Rick faltered, not because of the nudity. He had seen Ford naked many times before that. It was the state of his ailing form that bothered Rick. 

Ford was pallid and sweating. His muscles bunched and jumped under his skin as shivers wracked him. Ford had brought his knees up into his chest and while he was not gasping, Rick saw the careful slight way Ford's chest moved just to sustain the wheezy rattle of his breath. It looked painful. While his body was pale, almost to the point of greyness in Rick's opinion, Ford's cheeks were red. A sheen of sweat dappled his brow and on top of everything else, it looked like Ford could use a shave. Ford looked at Rick and his hazy eyes were filled with tears. Watery irritated eye, Rick hoped.

Rick had seen this smart powerful man laid low on several occasions. Hell, most of the times it had been Rick who had brought him to his knees. But honestly, Rick had never seen Ford look so pitiful. Here and now Rick saw something in Ford he had never had the privilege of witnessing in him before. Vulnerable, genuine humanity.

Ford slowly and painfully uncurled himself. He pushed himself up laboriously and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His body wobbled slightly and he cursed before looking up at Rick and reaching out to him. 

"If you help, I think I can." He said in a low voice. This was the most embarrassing thing he had ever been through. All his weaknesses on display. Ford almost wouldn't blame Rick for walking out on him. Without a moment's hesitation, Rick turned and sat down on the bed beside Ford. He slung Ford's arm around his shoulders.

"On three. One, two, three..." Rick stood, hoisting Ford to his feet. Ford groaned as he pushed himself up, leaning heavily on Rick. His legs wobbled but he soon got them under him again. They stood there a second to let Ford find his footing before Rick began to guide Ford to the bathroom. Once there Rick sat Ford on the toilet and turned away to check the water. 

"Piss if you gotta. When I'm sick nothing helps more than a good long sleep then a good long piss. Don't mind me. Nothing I haven't seen before." He said diplomatically. He moved about the room as if Ford weren't there. He found a few worn but clean towels and then took the step out the door to the kitchenette. Ford could hear the opening of drawers, the clink of glass and the hush of the tap.

Ford did relieve himself. He was mortified but glad he hadn't done it in the bed. The porcelain of the toilet felt blissfully cool against his back. Feeling the tears from earlier he wiped at his face with a bit of toilet paper. Everything felt hazy and dreamlike. He listened to Rick move around the apartment and before he knew he was doing it he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Rick leaned into the doorway at the sound of Ford's voice. He wore an expression of confusion laced with a cautious weariness. He had expected to see when he looked in that Ford has been a stubborn enough he-man to try and stand up to piss; that he had missed the bowl or was about to go toppling over and yet there Ford was just as he had left him. He left the glass of water on the kitchen table and entered the bathroom. He turned the water off and slowly moved Ford from the toilet to sit on the edge of the tub. He looked back at the toilet a moment, inspecting it for anything that might be out of the ordinary.

"What did you do now?" Rick asked in a voice that suggested that he wasn't looking for an answer and was just jerking Ford's chain. He held the man by the forearms to steady him. Ford looked up at Rick. 

"I made you come here. How did you know? How did you find me? " He asked as he searched Rick's face for something. They had only met up a few days ago. He wouldn't have thought of leaving Rick a clue for at least a few weeks.

"One leg at a time." Rick instructed. He gently lifted Ford's leg over the lip of the tub. Ford took the hint and did his best to be as accommodating as he could. Rick lowered Ford into the water. It wasn't cold, as Ford expected, but tepid. Ford gasped as he slid into the water. It felt good but his body was still so overheated. Rick gently pushed Ford to lay down and went about wetting and ringing out one of the washcloths.

"You opened your big fat mouth and said you had a connection in dimension CT-78." He explained "I didn't think you'd be dumb enough to actually come here but... you're good at doing stupid shit."

If he hadn't been ill he would have gotten very haughty at Rick's name calling but he was docile and weak. He wouldn't fight Rick.

"Why? What's wrong with this dimension?"

For just a flash, Rick seemed honestly surprised by that question.

"You don't-?" Rick sighed hard and scratched the top of his head. "Of course you don't know. You just jumped without looking."

Rick folded the wet washcloth and knelt to press it to Ford's forehead.

"This dimension had a second and a third bubonic plague outbreak in the last two hundred years. Global. Killed a lot and I mean _a lot_ of people. Everybody who survived passed on ridiculously high immune systems. In response, the germs got stronger. To natives of this dimension, this is just another flu season. But to you, it's a case of the superflu."

The way Rick was touching him felt off to Ford. Touch wasn't a foreign thing between them but it was always sexual and rough; never like this. Rick was actually caring for him. 

"They must not have known when they sent me here." He said. "They knew it was a parallel of my own dimension but not why." He was feeling a bit more coherent now. "How did you know I needed you?"

"Bunch of geniuses, I see. Should've known they weren't very bright. I mean they call themselves 'The Resistance' for Christ sake. Not very original. It's like going into a McDonald's but it's just called 'The Burger Cookers'. Don't know why you bother, Rambo." Rick had sent himself off on a tangent again. He left the washcloth on Ford's forehead and walked out of the room to his coat, still talking. His wet fingers left drops of fallen water on the lenses of Ford's glasses. "Must be nice to have pen pals as nutty about that nightmare realm stuff as you. You're a weirdo, Stanford. You're sure as shit a weirdo. But you don't feel as...tinfoil hatty as some of those resistance guys."

Rick fished something from his coat then circled back, stopping at the kitchen table for the glass of water and the handheld device he had left there.

"I mean if you've all got a boner for rebelling you could focus on something that exists, like the Galactic Federation. Buncha bureaucratic killjoys. Better than trying to nuke the theoretical lint trap of the multi-verse..."

Rick reentered the bathroom. He closed the lid of the toilet and sat the water glass and the mystery device on it. He also had a baggy in his hands, filled with capsules. Not all of them matched but most of them were tablets of a bright orange color. Rick fished out two of those and left the baggy on the back on the toilet. Rick knelt again and reached out a long arm to put the pills in Ford's mouth. In a pavlovian response, Ford opened his mouth for Rick. If he hadn't already been flush with fever the author would have been flush with embarrassment. Though it was no secret that Ford's mouth was very familiar with Rick's fingers.

"Bill Cipher is real." He mumbled around the pills, a mildly annoyed look on his face.

"Uh-huh. I'll be sure to tell the Easter Bunny when I see him at the DMV." Rick brought the glass to Ford's lips. "Drink up. Hydration."

Ford begrudgingly took a sip of water to wash the pills down but as soon as it passed his lips he drank greedily. He reached up and steadied Rick's hand. He drained the glass before letting go of Rick. The towel on his forehead had slid down and he reached up to readjust it. 

"Thank you." He said softly not looking at Rick. This was hard for him. He was a grown man. He shouldn't need this type of babying. On the other hand, there was no way he would fight with Rick today after all he'd done. Rick sat down on the toilet and looked at the little box he had brought into the room. He nodded his head considering something.

"Your fever's dropped by two degrees already. Not broken, but it's a start..." He said. Rick didn't acknowledge Ford's thanks in an attempt to save Ford's pride. Ford craned his neck to try and see what Rick was looking at. 

"What is that? How do you know?" His mind was working more smoothly. It was a relief to finally feel more like himself.

Rick held it out to Ford to see. It was a black square of plastic with a tiny keyboard and small screen on the front. To Ford, it looked like it had been hastily rigged together out of preexisting parts, messy yet effective. Ford read the word 'BlackBerry' printed at the bottom. The screen displayed a readout of heart rate, body temperature and other vitals.

"If someone with next to no self-preservation says they're going to germ dimension, you'd be a dick not to track em." He told Ford. He stood and bent at the waist. Rick gently pulled Ford's glasses off. He held them at an angle so the light could catch the metallic glint of a microchip attached to the arm. Rick looked at Ford with a little gleam of mischief in his eye.

"You always forget to take your glasses off when you go to sleep." He said knowingly. Ford blinked at Rick then looked back at his glasses. That felt a bit like intimate knowledge. He pulled the towel off his forehead and rewet it before wiping down the back of his neck. 

"For once I'm glad for a bad habit." He said. Ford ran the washcloth over his hair to wet it then ran his hands over the light beard that he had started to grow while on the run.

"Yeah, I figured if you were going to put your ass in the fire, you'd need somebody to pull it out. That or if you died I figured you'd want to be buried in a dignified position. Couldn't leave you in a puddle of your own vomit." Rick shrugged. He twirled Ford's glasses by the arm idly "Not that you're out of the woods yet. Those pills will help but you need sleep and lots of it. Guess I should find some food for you too. Can you swallow solids, you think?"

"I think so. I've no appetite but that's to be expected I suppose." Ford reached out his hand for his glasses. "Please. I can't see." He said before another coughing fit took hold of him. Rick knelt and waited for it to pass. Once Ford had calmed down, Rick favored him with languid kind of fondness.

"It's okay." He said. He slipped the glasses on Ford's face. "You know where everything is."

Ford gave Rick a haughty look.

"I do but I don't believe I'm up for any of that. Has my temperature gone down?" Ford tried to discreetly cover himself as that comment had reminded his body what happened when Rick was around usually. The spirit was apparently willing but the flesh was very weak. Rick noticed the shifting of Ford's hands, a conspicuous effort at being inconspicuous. He gave a snide half smile and looked at the vitals tracker. He shrugged.

"You're down to one hundred. I think that's the best you're gonna do for right now. Should hopefully break in the night now that you've got some meds in you." Rick stood and gave Ford that flirtatious look again. He couldn't help himself when it came to making the seemingly straight-laced Ford blush. He held out a hand. "Want me to take you to bed now?"

Ford ignored Rick's flirtatious looks and innuendo-laced words as best he could. He hoped the flush from the fever was enough to hide his blush.

"I hate to ask more of you but would it be alright if I sat here a bit longer and you could change the sheets? They felt pretty disgusting after I've sweat in them for so long. I'm sorry to be such a bother." It seemed like a simple request but Ford still didn't like making it. Rick cocked a hip to the side in a coy play at defiance.

"Jesus, you really get off on the woe is me stuff. 'Sorry to be a bother'. Says the guy croaking like a frog and not able to stand. Thinks the sheets are a big ask." Rick joked. He sensed the joke not landing and dropped it. "Fine by me. But you will stay here, drink the glass of water I'm about to give you then once you are in that bed you're going to eat every bite of whatever food I put down in front of you. Got it?"

Ford rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, mother." He said and gave Rick a half smile. "And if you still carry a lighter, I don't think a shave will be too strenuous on me."

Rick studied Ford's face, searching for the missing information that linked Rick's lighter to Ford getting a shave. He found none.

"If that's what you want... sure, weirdo." Rick chuckled and turned to leave the room. Ford reached out and gently took Rick's wrist in his to halt his progress. 

"Before you go, I want to apologize." Rick rolled his eyes and began to say something but Ford stopped him.

"For Gear World." Ford looked up into Rick's eyes. It had been years now and Ford had been thinking about it all that time. "I could have handled the situation more diplomatically and..." He paused looking away. His thumb ran over Rick's pulse absentmindedly. "It would be remiss of me not to admit to you that I had thought about the possibilities of a romantic and vocational alliance between us. Unfortunately, I don't believe our morals correlate properly for a working relationship and as for romance.... Well, I've been in love and while I would be distressed if something happened to you I didn't feel that the situations have the same variables." He sighed. He hoped Rick would understand.

Rick could feel the damp and warmth of Ford's hand sinking into his skin. A water droplet fell from Ford's finger and rolled down the inside of Rick's wrist and down his palm. The words had been unexpected and it was their blatant open honesty that struck Rick. It hurt. It was embarrassing and it hurt. Rick had been under the impression that Ford truly didn't care about what had happened that night and in what had passed for his kind of socially inept mercy had spared Rick the indignity of bringing it up. It was somehow both terrible and vindicating to know he wasn't the only one who thought about it. Rick swallowed hard, trying to concoct some kind of meaningful rebuttal.

"Fever's got you carrying on and you still sound like a computer manual." He said in an attempt at being mild. He cleared his throat and considered his words carefully. "But, uh, yeah. I was the one that tried to mess up our thing. I was going through some shit. I shouldn't have let it happen. S'not what you signed up for. So...my bad."

Rick wouldn't go as far as to say Ford had a right to be mad but looking back on it, Rick realized how stupid and impulsive he had been. Rick was no stranger to being stupid or impulsive from time to time, this much was true. Though only with years of reflection and a visit back to the Mystery Shack as Oregon Stanford had asked of him that Rick really got it to stick that these two Stanfords were most definitely not the same thing. It had been a weekend, just a weekend of good food and better comfortable company and Rick found it much easier to leave that time. In any case, the man holding onto Rick now wasn't a bad guy but Rick absolutely understood when he said that anything beyond their arrangement was not a good idea. Ford let go of Rick and tried to make it look nonchalant.

"For being the more learned, they are none the less fools." He quoted. He looked up at Rick with a half smile before sliding down in the bath and covering his eyes with the wet washcloth.

De Montaigne, Rick noted to himself. He privately wondered on how it was a philosopher Ford was quoting and not a scientist. Perhaps Ford had more facets, in his overly nerdy way, than Rick was giving him credit for.

 

  
Ford stood on the beach. It was night and it was day but it was mostly night. The squeaky sound of old swing set chains seemed to echo everywhere. He stood on the beach in his black interdimensional travel gear. The ocean in front of him had the sun setting and the moon rising at the same time. One to his right, the other to his left. It was unsettling. The Stan-O-War was broken in the water, half beached. Not worn down by time or water but violently and angrily smashed. Then the crying started. A child's wail. Distressed. Scared. Familiar. 

Ford turned and he was standing in front of the pawn shop. There were no lights on and it was all quiet, so still that Ford could hear his heartbeat. Ford looked into the window in the door. He could make out what looked like flipped shelves. The cash register lay on the floor, coins and money spilled everywhere. His big six-fingered hand wrapped around the doorknob and his mother's phone psychic sign flipped on. He looked up at the glowing sign with its bright blue eye. The electric hum of the neon seemed to grow louder and louder and then it stopped. Silence. Then screaming. Screaming from in the apartment. Terrified, painful child's screams. And Ford knew who it belonged to. 

"Stanley!" He breathed as he ran through the door. The pawn shop was in worse shape then he had seen through the door. Everything was broken and covered with dust as if it had been like this for a very long time. He rushed past and up the stairs to the apartment. The screaming stopped as he came through the door. Like the shop, everything was ripped apart. Flies circled a rotten bowl of fruit and the whole apartment smelled like decay and excrement. The only light on was a shaky one coming from the room that had once been his and Stanley's. He could hear muffled whimpers coming from the room. 

Ford didn't remember crossing the room but suddenly he was standing in front of the slightly ajar door. He pushed the door open. The light came from a flashlight on the floor, its light slowly dying. Another wrecked room but this time there was someone inside. Stanley, as Ford remembered him as a child, was curled up in a corner whimpering, his face in his hands. The little boy's clothes were ripped and dirty. From what Ford could see, Stanley was covered in bruises and cuts. 

"Stanley. Stanley, what happened?" Ford asked as he stepped into the room. 

"You left me, Sixer. You left me here." Stan answered in an empty pathetic way between sobbing whimpers. "Then Ma and Pop didn't want me. I was alone. And he came." Stanley started crying harder. His little body shook. "He hurts me, Sixer. He hurts me so much."

Ford felt sick to his stomach. How could he have known this would happen? He didn't want to hurt Stanley. Not his Stanley. 

"I'm here now. I won't leave without you again." He said quietly as he approached the child. He knelt and placed his big hand on little Stanley's back. "I'm here, Stanley. Come with me. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore." 

Stanley stopped shaking. He stopped crying. His little hands slid away from his face. One eye, the familiar comforting soft brown Ford had always loved now haunted and ringed in red, looked back up at Ford. The other was gone, reduced to nothing but a raw empty socket.

"It's too late for that, Poindexter." He said softly. Thick black blood poured down Stanley's cheek like perverse tears. Ford tried to pull away in horror but those little hands gripped his coat, so much stronger than they should have been. 

"You left me here! You threw me away cause I wasn't good enough for you, Sixer!" Stanley wailed as he dragged Ford down to the floor. His eye socket drenched Ford with blood. Stan's teeth went sharp as he howled, animal-like, into Ford's face. His remaining eye drained of color then glowed flashing gold, the pupil morphing into a serpentine slit. "You let him hurt me! You said you loved me! You lied! It was supposed to be you and me forever!" 

Ford screamed as he woke up. He sat up in bed, panting and crying, his whole body shaking as he looked around the small safe house. Rick was sitting on the bed beside him. The towel he was holding fell to the floor when Ford shot up, the ice cubes inside clattering to all points of the map. Rick started in surprise and grabbed Ford by the shoulders. 

"Don't! Don't! Don't!" He panted as he pulled away from Rick. 

"Woah, woah! Settle down!" Rick said in a voice as soothing as he could through his confusion. He struggled to hold onto Ford as he pitched and fought like a wounded animal. It was amazing how strong the man was even in the throes of his malaise. "It's, it's me, it's Rick! You're freaking out! You're dreaming!"

Ford buried his face in his hands as he slowly got his breathing under control. At last, he uncovered his face slowly. He let Rick hold his shoulders as his eyes swept the room one more time. His fingers gripped the front of Rick's shirt. He leaned his forehead against Rick's shoulder. Tenderness was foreign between them but now Ford was too weak and tired for all of that.

"Oh, God. Oh thank God." He said as he caught his breath. "It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare."

Rick immediately put his arms around Ford when he collapsed into him. It was a move of instinct. Not knowing what to do, Rick helplessly patted Ford's back. The sweat was pouring off his skin in buckets. Rick decided to do the one thing he knew both he and Ford might be able to benefit from. Focus on science.

"It's the fever. The heat. Your hypothalamus is trying to burn out the sickness and it's making your amygdala go haywire. It's all chemicals, Ford..." He told the man. It was his dominant voice run through levels of concern and dismay.

Rick's arms felt good around him. With some trepidation, Ford slid his arms around Rick and held on. The dominant voice and those thin strong arms were a comfort he hadn't known for so long. 

"Yes. Yes, you're right." he said after a moment. "It just... Felt so real."

"I know. I know but you gotta try and get some rest. I won't lie to you. Things are a little touch and go right now." Rick said. He could feel Ford trembling in his arms. He didn't know if it was from illness or fear but all Rick wanted was to make it stop somehow. Ford pulled back just a little and gave Rick a sheepish look.

"Will you stay close until I fall asleep?"

"Yeah, yeah sure." The words fell from Rick's mouth in a jumble. He had seen Ford angry and wanting but there was something about seeing the man frightened that was startlingly intimate. Intimate in a way that Rick had not been prepared for. Rick sometimes forgot that people as smart as he and Ford were still susceptible to flights of irrational emotion.

Rick gently pushed Ford back down into bed and retrieved the washcloth from the floor. He twisted a few more ice cubes from the battered tray he had on the bedside table and wrapped them up, pressing the compress to Ford's overheated head. After a moment he took a fragment of a cracked cube from the tray and slipped it into Ford's mouth.  Ford's throat was still scratchy and inflamed by the sound of his voice and the labored way he was forced to swallow and Rick figured it couldn't hurt.

Ford looked up at Rick with a searching look. He accepted the ice chip and its coldness felt heavenly in his mouth. When had Rick softened? This was a man he did not know but not a man he disliked. One of Rick's hands was resting on the bed beside him as the tall man pressed the cold cloth against Ford's forehead. Ford covered Rick's hand with his. He craved a more intimate touch but he knew he was too weak and he didn't want to get Rick sick.

"Thank you." He said softly before closing his eyes.

Rick did as he was asked, the awkward feeling of being responsible for someone's comfort passing once Ford, at last, fell to sleep. He didn't sleep much himself, electing to stay sitting up in the chair beside the bed and nodding off between the changing of ice packs and hourly checks of Ford's vitals. Ford's fever broke by morning.

 

  
Ford mostly slept for the next two days and Rick occupied himself with the few channels the tube tv could pick up. Rick neglected to mention the business with the fever dream and honestly how much the whole ordeal had left him shaken as well.

The pantry was well stocked with nonperishable food and other supplies and Rick only woke Ford to feed him or to give him the orange anti-viral pills from the plastic sandwich baggie. Ford noticed that Rick was taking them too and when he groggily made mention of it, Rick irritably explained that he had to make sure he didn't catch anything either.

"In fact, I'm not risking going outside. I'm just as quarantined as you, pal. You may have decided to play the aliens in your personal reenactment of War of The Worlds but community theater was never my strong point."  He grumbled.

Ford knew how hard that must be for Rick. He was a free spirit and an avid wanderer. This was a sacrifice and Ford wondered when Rick had become so selfless. He surveyed Rick's new style. Absent were the ripped jeans and dirty t-shirts with snide phrases. He looked his age and good at that. The blue of his shirt made his wild hair stand out but also his dark eyes didn't look so angry. He looked good. Ford remembered thinking when they first met that he wouldn't have approached Rick's sort in a bar but now...well now Ford would have made the first move and offered to buy Rick a drink. Ford realized he was staring and looked away quickly. 

By the third day, Ford's ever racing mind began to get the better of him. Rick had refused to make much small talk with Ford under the pretense that that had always been their arrangement and there was no need for them to change that based upon their circumstances. It wasn't too bad as Ford was unconscious more often than not but when he was awake, the quiet drone of the tube tv made the most noise in the apartment. Rick seemed content in this or at least as Rick could be with his near permanent expression of dispassionate indifference. Rick was doing a job and Ford could tell.

Ford had decided he'd had enough and told Rick as much. That he was going to start climbing the walls if he had to remain in bed a moment longer. He had even swung his legs out of bed and tried to stand but wobbled and collapsed back down as soon as he had reached his feet. Rick acidicly reminded Ford that he wasn't shaking off a bug but rather battling a flu virus the likes of which his immune system had never seen before. That Ford had to stay in bed as much as possible to give his body a fighting chance. Ford was resentful but saw Rick's point. Though he was obstinate in the fact that Rick either needed to start talking to Ford or find something appropriate to occupy his waking hours. Rick crossed his arms and stuck out a thin hip at a defiant angle.

"Fine. What do you want?" Crosswords, sudoku or something?" he had finally relented. Ford considered something in an unsure way, opened his mouth then hesitated. Rick quirked his eyebrow at an unhappy expectant incline.

"Well, I have always been a fan of.... Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons. I found designing a campaign to be very relaxing actually." Ford said a little sheepishly. Rick put his fingers to his temple as if he had just developed a migraine.

"As if you weren't nerdy enough." He sighed. Ford persisted, defending the role-playing game as a contest of wit and skill and Rick sarcastically begged Ford to spare him. He asked where he was even going to find that stuff and Ford wilted at that. In college, all his DD and More D materials had been borrowed from others or mail ordered from specialty magazines. He told Rick as much and Rick took that as an absolute victory. He grumbled that he'd find Ford a coloring book eventually and told him to get his panties unbunched about it.

Sometime in the next hour, exhaustion, which was becoming an annoyance that Ford couldn't shake, returned. Ford didn't sleep often so the way his body demanded it now felt like a betrayal. Ford had no say in it however and before long the dark softness of sleep overtook him.

When at last Ford did wake it was that groggy kind of illusionary time travel that a long nap in the middle of the day was known to cause. Ford looked around, trying to get his bearings. When his gaze reached the bedside table, his eyes fell on a tidy little pile of literature. Ford tilted his head to read the names on the spines of the books.

There was a Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons basics book and a thicker volume called "Tome of Foes". On top of that was a stack of graph paper, a few pens and markers and a set of polyhedral dice, none in the same color.

Ford pushed himself up and picked up the books as if they were gold. He placed them in his lap with reverence then looked up to see the back of Rick's head as he sat there watching tv.

"You found them." He said with a smile. When Rick turned his head Ford's smile melted into a skeptical look. "Do I want to know where you got these from?"

Rick rolled his eyes and looked back at the tv.

"Don't worry about it. Santa came late this year. Merry Christmas." He said. Ford set to work, thumbing through the books. The art and familiar spell and ability titles greeted Ford like old friends.

"This is spectacular. I should be able to have a campaign ready by lunchtime tomorrow. It won't be very detailed of course but complexity is not often the friend of single player sessions..." He said excitedly. Rick swung his arm over the couch and turned to look at Ford suspiciously.

"Excuse me. But you aren't implying that you want me to engage in your pathetic high concept fantasy garbage." He said warningly. Ford looked back, gobsmacked.

"But..well yes. What good is writing a campaign if you don't play it? Come on, I'll even write your character sheet for you." Ford replied with a sincerity that bordered on naive. It was painful to look at.

"Spock, I got you that stuff because you asked for it. I did not sign up to play Barbie dolls with you, ok?" Rick waved his arm in an airy gesture of dismissal and turned back to the trash tv he was occupying himself with. Ford protested a little longer but Rick resolutely ignored him. Finally, Ford decided that if half the fun of DD and more D was making the campaign then he could at least have half of a good time and it was certainly better than sitting in his bed twiddling his thumbs. 

Once Ford began he fell back into the swing of things quite easily. He plotted out a maze and other battlefields on the graph paper, going back and feverishly adding corridors and obstacles as they occurred to him. He worked ceaselessly, enjoying the complexities of battle triggering traps and encounters. Ford stopped when Rick insisted he eat or take his medicine but other than that Ford was engrossed in his work. For a long time, the only sounds in the room were the low hum of the tv and the scrape of Ford's pen as he worked, occasionally stopping to cough wetly.

Sometime after the sun went down Rick looked over his shoulder to see Ford laying back in the pillow sleeping deeply. He had papers scattered all around him on the bed and floor like drifts of lined snow. One of the books was open and draped over his bare chest. Rick stood and looked the sleeping man over. It was the most peaceful he had ever seen Ford. Rick pulled the book from Ford's grasp and laid it open on the side table. He took Ford's glasses off and put them on the open page. Rick watched him a moment longer before returning to the couch where he had been sleeping.

When Rick woke up the next day after sleeping in, he looked over the couch to see Ford was already awake and scribbling madly on more paper. He had a look on his face of enthusiastic pride and was completely lost in his work. Rick could almost appreciate it from the point of view of a fellow tinkerer. 

Rick slept in his underwear and now blinked thickly trying to remember where his pants had ended up. He couldn't see them. Rick coughed none too quietly and Ford at last looked up. He smiled and Rick was taken aback by how genuine it was.

"Greetings." He said happily.

"How long have you been up? You doing any better?" Rick asked, a bit distracted by Ford's exuberance.

"Oh much better. I was having a bit of trouble balancing this paladin's offensive and defensive spells list but I just got my finger on what the problem is..."

"That's not what I...fuck it. Nevermind." Rick stood and crossed the apartment to the coffee machine. "So how's Narnia?"

Ford began to ramble on about the terrain he had chosen for the region of Integernia the quest was taking place and on whether magic should be sorcery or incantation based. Rick mostly tuned this out. He took out the medicine and popped his two pills, swallowing them dry. He poured a glass of water for Ford and brought the medicine to him. When he made it to the bed and Ford continued to leaf through the sheets searching for his notes on special abilities, Rick made an impatient motion hoping Ford would get the hint. Ford only managed to shut up long enough take the mouthful of water to go with his pills then he continued on undeterred.

"Ok, ok I get it. Hell!" Rick snapped. Ford didn't seem upset by Rick's tone but more like he had just seen Rick for the first time this morning.

"Yes well, in any case. It's shaping up to be an incredible campaign. The first dungeon is finished already. And I've even made a few basic level five characters to start with." Ford explained, organizing his papers. He held out a stack of nearly two dozen filled in character sheets. Rick took them and flipped through dubiously.

"Why so damn many?" He grumbled. The coffee machine burbled and Rick desperately wanted caffeine.

"Well, I figured it's better to have a few. I can always use them as NPCs. And it saves us from having to reroll if there's a total party wipe." Ford's tone was studious and earnest. Rick gave him a withering look.

"Us? I told you I'm not playing!" He said sourly. The coffee maker beeped and Rick walked to it. He cut off Ford's protests and very rational arguments with short stubborn 'nope's and 'no way's. This continued as Rick poured a cup and sugared it heavily then returned to Ford's bedside. Rick's responses had becomes more theatrical and playful the more he said them and Ford found himself chuckling and his well thought out arguments devolving into his own niggling tongue in cheek pleas of 'come on!' and 'you just have to!'

Rick, who was still holding the stack of character sheets in his hand, tossed them onto Ford's lap. He was smiling as he sipped his coffee.

"You're just going to have to get used to disappointment." He said sagely. Ford sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. His tattoos made an optical illusion as they folded into each other. He was also smiling.

"Alright, if you say so. I figure that's for the best anyway." Ford said in a faux voice of resignation "It's a bit of a doozy. I'd be surprised if you could make it out of Lady Arachobith's spider cave alive. You'd have to be a genius to think around the traps and puzzles I've built into this dungeon..."

Rick quirked an eyebrow and his smile grew bigger, more sly.

"You're baiting me into playing your stupid little game and you're not being subtle about it, you know I know that, right?"

"That's what I'm doing, yes." Ford folded his hands in his lap. His tone was plain but there was something in his deliberateness that was downright flirty. Rick looked into the man's face then, still a little pale with sickness save for two blooms of red high on his cheeks and saw a natural puckishness he thought stuffed shirt Ford was incapable of. Rick rolled his eyes, perhaps pretending to be a bit more exasperated than he was.

"Jesus Christ fine! What do I have to do?" He said. Still unable to locate his pants, Rick snatched up his sweater and pulled it on. Ford looked flustered and surprised.

"Really? You're really going to play? You aren't going to tell me no again?" He asked. Rick brought a chair over from the kitchenette and sat.

"I could change my mind. You want that? Quit pestering me, alright?" He warned. Ford complied and started to set up.

At first, things had started very slow, with Rick going through the stack of character sheets with names like 'Asgolt Qhegless' and  'Helm Noravor, wielder of Heartsbane' and tossing them each aside in disgust. He finally settled on a human thief named 'Zayne Pharrows' saying it was because it sounded the least stupid and made up. It did sound stupid and made up, Rick reasoned, but less so than the others. It didn't stop Rick from asking if he could rename him "Buttsmin, the well hung!"  But that only earned him an admonishing look from Ford and a request to take things seriously.

But once Rick made the concerted effort to not pipe in with snide remarks every two sentences and started actually making decisions when they were presented to him Rick caught himself enjoying it. Granted all of his decisions seemed to be in an attempt to throw Ford's plans off the tracks. Rick hadn't even left the tavern the story started in without incurring the wrath of a group of kobolds with several choice words about their mothers. Rick had grinned up at Ford still sitting up in bed hoping to see a look of shock and anger but Ford just nodded his head curtly, said "Hm. Chaotic Neutral." Then he rolled a few dice into the shoe box top they were using as a dice tray and told Rick that two of the lizardmen had bitten into his ankles and what was Zayne going to do about it?

The afternoon had devolved into laughing, joking chaos. Ford had a plan for every one of Rick's tricks and Rick caught himself up in the competition of it. He solved every puzzle and snare Ford had put into the dungeon and took risky chances at every opportunity. Rick was delighted to see what a well of creativity and personality Ford could be when he wasn't thinking about the real world problems he often piled upon himself. He gave each character a voice and mannerisms, some of which were over the top enough to make Rick laugh out loud. Rick added 'at ease' to the list of emotions he had never seen in Ford until this week. Between sips on his flask, Rick urgently awaited the next monster or booby trap, though he didn't say it in so many words. He wasn't even angry when his character was ripped limb from limb by The Terrorasque, the legendary gargantuan beast living in the lowest level of the cave. It was a bad roll and Ford just looked so proud of what he had created that it couldn't rain on his parade.

Rick's blackberry went off to remind him to give them both pills. With little ceremony, the tall man stood and walked into the kitchen to retrieve the medicine. Ford couldn't help himself but watch the globes of Rick's buttocks move under the tight white fabric of the man's underwear. He felt his cock pulse and he remembered the last time they'd been together. Ford had been kneeling on a chair backward as Rick thrust into him. One hand gripped the beat up upholstery of the back of the chair furnished in the cheap motel room. The other hand was reaching back and gripping Rick's ass cheek to pull him deeper. He had panted and moaned with each thrust as Rick growled filth into his ear. 

Ford was fully hard under the blanket by the time Rick came back with his pills and water. Ford could just make out the outline of Rick's sex beneath the thin material. He smirked at Rick and opened his mouth expectantly for his pills. Rick smiled back and placed the pills on Ford's tongue. Ford sipped the water handed to him and watched as Rick laid his lanky body laid across the bed, his head cradled in one hand. 

"We still playing or what?" Rick asked and nothing was sexier to Ford than that. Ford pushed through his embarrassment and deflected the innuendo-laced comment by looking at the clock and saying matter of factly that no one was playing anything because they had made it to the end of the dungeon, Rick's character was dead and they had been playing five hours now. Rick almost did a double take at that. Now that he realized it, the sun had gone down and he did remember Ford distractedly turning on the bedside lamp so he could read his notes but Rick was still astounded how the time had flown by. Outside the lamp's yellow glow, the rest of the safe house was plunged into the pale dimness of overcast winter twilight. 

"Maybe that's why I'm so hungry..." Rick wondered aloud, stood and made his way back across the room. Ford had a smug look on his face as he cheerfully packed up the game.

"Maybe next time you'll be a little more open-minded when I make a suggestion." He said in a slightly superior tone. His eyebrow quirked in a sexy beckoning way.

Rick who was had walked to the kitchen, turned to shoot back a barb but the look in Ford's eye stopped him. He hoped Ford couldn't see the look of lust and stupefaction on his face in the darkness. He elected to bark a quiet laugh.

"Hm. Maybe I will." He said.


	4. Chapter 4

Ford's strength had returned somewhat by the next day. His sore throat was gone but his cough was still persistent if now only dry. Still, Ford insisted Rick let him get out of bed, at least for a little bit.

After a small fight of wills, Ford was planted on one end of the couch with a blanket wrapped around him. Ford had never had much time for watching television but this was the activity he was relegated to as Rick stubbornly said he wasn't ready for another day-long DD and More D marathon. Between Fraiser and The X files, Ford was mostly entertained. Rick would even join him from time to time. The wild-haired man would poke holes in the science on X files and rant about how psychology was a trash science but he did laugh at some of the jokes on Fraisier. Rick placed his feet in Ford's lap while they played Who Wants To Be A Millionaire against each other. At first, it annoyed Ford and he would gently push Rick's feet off of him but Rick would always just slip them back into Ford's lap like they belonged there and give Ford a challenging look. After the third time, Ford just left them there as they played their game and watched the show. 

This new contestant didn't seem promising. Ford noticed that the less intelligent contestants made Rick grit his teeth and sneer at the television. Ford, on the other hand, would roll his eyes. He knew he would have answered all the questions and had safety nets to spare. 

The young man on the screen wasn't fairing very well. He was only four questions into fourteen and he was using one of his lifelines. Ford shook his head disapprovingly. 

"Dumb ass!" Rick yelled at the tv. "You're gonna lose, bitch! Dumb mother fucker! The hell are you doing here!? Lifelines are for the end when it's actually hard, you idiot!" 

Ford had jumped when Rick first yelled. He looked at the other man with wide eyes for just a moment before bursting into laughter.

"I was thinking the same thing." He laughed. His hand rested on one of Rick's ankles and they laughed together as they played the game on the television. Ford couldn't remember having such a good time with anyone in a very long time. He found himself smiling at Rick and he rubbed his calf, thinking that Rick wasn't such a bad guy.

They both fell asleep on the couch sometime during the late night movie. When Ford woke next, the cold midday sun was pouring in from the dusty windows Ford blinked groggily not knowing what time it was but knowing he had overslept. It felt strange for someone who often forgot or sometimes refused to sleep but it was part of the healing process he supposed. Rick was nowhere to be seen but sitting next to Ford was a neatly folded pile of laundry. His coat and travel gear, clean and fresh but on top of that was a set of soft pajama bottoms in red and black plaid and a black t-shirt.

The bathroom door opened with a click and Rick stepped out into the kitchenette. He was in the same dark slacks as before but was now in a soft blue button down. On the table beside him, Ford saw several paper grocery bags. Ford blinked rapidly at all of this. Then looked back at Rick. The shirt was tight and showed off his lean form. 

"You look great." He said without thinking then flushed bright red. "I mean, why are you dressed so nicely? And what's all of this?" He asked as he gestured around at the bags and clothes.

Rick looked back, unabashedly complimented. He fussed with the button of his cuff and smiled. Rick began to unpack the bags, pulling out snacks and food. Ford saw a package of steaks, a container of cold shrimp and a jar of cocktail sauce.

"That's what you do on New Year's Eve, isn't it? Get dressed up, eat too much, drink too much..." He explained. As if on cue, a pair of bottles came out of a black liquor store bag. Ford read the label on the bottle facing him. Korbel champagne. The label had confetti and noisemakers printed on it and the words 'Times square 2000' around the neck.

"You don't seem the type to prescribe to the idea that a moment in time is more relevant than another simply because it's the end of a calendar year. I have been wrong in my perception of you before though." Ford said with a little smile. He picked up the soft black shirt and held it up. "Are you tired of seeing me naked already?" He asked coyly.

Rick scoffed in a good-natured way.

"It's not. But it's a distraction from the inevitable march of time and more importantly a socially acceptable excuse to get wasted in public so I'm down to play along."  He said. It was unapologetic but not bitter. "And how many new millenniums are you going to see in your lifetime? I'd much rather be out partying it up, but I'm stuck babysitting you. So I figure we'd make the most of it and party like it's 1999 before no one can ever play that song again without it being ironic."

Rick did not acknowledge the comment on Ford's nudity. Ford's clothes were rough and unsuitable for recovering in bed. On top of that, they were grimy from Rick didn't know how many days on the run. The man didn't even wear underwear so Rick had just without question relegated Ford to bed naked and shrugged in a too bad kind of way whenever Ford complained about it.

In reality, Rick had gotten near a breaking point, watching Ford lounging around with his strong arms and chest on display. What little self-control Rick had noted that the man was sick and weak and it would be at the very least impolite to crawl into bed and give Ford a deep dicking. Could Rick have stopped off and found clothes for Ford during his brief, medical mask wearing trip to the comic shop for the game supplies? Yes, but while Rick had not acted on the impulses of his overbearing shoulder devil that didn't mean that they both (and even Rick's shoulder angel who was pretty slipshod in his work) couldn't enjoy the view. It wasn't like Ford had anywhere to go.

It stood in the back of his mind last night that all that was separating Rick from Ford's delicious naked body as they sat on the couch was a thin blanket and a three feet of space but Rick firmly ignored it. It was then he had to concede to getting Ford something comfortable to wear. Ford smiled and pulled the shirt on over his head. 

"I'd admonish you for the extravagance but it has been a very long time since I've had steak or shrimp so I'll allow it." He pushed himself up from the couch and the blanket fell away. He grabbed the lounge pants and pulled them over his nakedness.

Rick didn't hide the way he was staring as Ford pulled the pants up over his behind. He had guessed at the sizes and might have gotten the shirt off by a little judging by the tightness of the sleeves around Ford's biceps. Rick wasn't complaining. He put the groceries in the small fridge and leaned on it, crossing his ankle.

"Oh, you'll allow it? Thank God. You know how I live for your approval." He teased.

"Let me help with the food." Ford said as he walked over to Rick, his feet padding on the wood floor. He guessed by the way Rick was looking at him he looked good in these clothes. "I feel bad that I made you take care of me all this time."

Rick tilted his head and the flirtation there was put off by a type of disgust.

"You, germbag? I don't think so." He said. There was playfulness in his stance as he splayed his hands out across the fridge in a mock pose of protection for the food inside "And let's get something straight. You didn't make me do anything. Nobody makes Rick Sanchez do anything he hasn't already decided to do."

Ford chuckled. "I meant I've been somewhat useless as of late. I'm not used to having no purpose." He came a bit closer and puffed out his chest before crossing his arms. "Come on. I'll scrub up to the elbow." He looked up at Rick with warm eyes. "Please, Rick?"

Ford was laying it on thick. Rick wanted to believe that. But the earnestness there was a little disarming and not what Rick was expecting. And then there was the 'please'. Ford had never said please to Rick unless under sexual duress. Rick was so used to hearing it panted wantonly. There was something new and kind of nice in the collected scholarly way Ford said it now.

"You're probably not contagious anymore anyways. Knock yourself out." Rick griped and nodded his head towards the sink.

Ford scrubbed up efficiently and held his hands up like a surgeon. His companion rolled his eyes but there was humor in it. Ford made lunch while Rick prepped for dinner and snacks later in the night. Rick made jokes he thought Ford would find distasteful and was surprised when the other man laughed. Ford was even able to fire back a couple of his own before lunch was finished. As Ford plated the food Rick made a snide remark about how neither of them could cook. Ford smiled up at him and casually bumped his shoulder against Rick's before telling him to speak for himself. Rick looked Ford over quickly, his expression vaguely wolfish then bumped Ford back gently.

The food had been pretty good actually. It was just simple sandwiches but to both of the men who were used to take out on a regular basis and had spent the last week eating freeze-dried and preserved pantry food, it was a welcome change of pace.

With a full belly, Rick sat on the couch, kicked his feet up with the Tome of Foes and flicked through the pages to laugh at the overdone art for each monster. Ford did his best to defend Rick's ridicule and almost succeeded in some cases but Rick refused to budge on how no one in their right mind would find something named a Gelatinous Octohedron scary or how calling it a "Tiny Monsterous Spider" was just stupid. Rick suggested a few monsters of his own, each one more outrageous than the last. He swore up and down he had met aliens just like the ones he had described and went on to tell Ford a some of his more colorful anecdotes. If Rick leaned in a bit too close he didn't make mention of it.

Ford smiled and leaned into the stray touches Rick gave him. This was the longest time they had been in each others presence without it being sexual and Ford was surprised by how well it was going. He wasn't going to lie. He was missing the contract but he didn't want to push Rick either. 

"You think I'm well enough for a drink, doctor?" He asked with a smirk.

"Oh ho! And here I was thinking I'd have to stick a funnel in your mouth. It's not New Year's Eve if you don't start drinking before sundown..." Rick punched at Ford's arm lightly and stood, dumping the book in Ford's lap. He went to the kitchen and pulled the second of the two bottles Ford had seen earlier down from the shelf. The bold red and black letters of a Monte Alban tequila bottle stared at Ford. The worm at the bottom of the bottle stared too. Rick grabbed two mismatched glasses in his other hand and brought them back to the couch. He pressed a glass into Ford's hand and began to open the bottle, wearing a grin of Cheshire cat proportions. 

"Alcohol kills germs. That's science." He added jokingly. Ford blinked at the bottle. 

"I wasn't quite expecting something so strong but... It is New Year's and I'm keeping you from revelry so I'll play along." He offered his glass to Rick. Rick poured Ford a healthy amount and an even more healthy amount for himself and clinked their glasses together.

"You keep talking like I'm putting you out. Don't do me any favors."  Rick took a swig of tequila then gave an appreciative grimace. "Not unless you were planning on kissing me at midnight."

Ford's heart thumped at the mention of a kiss. He slipped on his drink before replying.

"I thought that sort of thing was for lovers. The person who you were intending to spend the new year with." He took a bigger sip and this time he grimaced. "Besides that" He continued in a rough voice. "I might make you sick"

Rick shrugged and sipped his drink.

"We're lovers. That is, we're fucking each other." Rick thought about Oregon Stanford for a moment and how he could use the same words to describe their relationship and it wouldn't mean the same thing at all. He sat back in his seat. "Let's just say I'm not saving it for anybody right now. Not when I'm stuck inside with you all night at least."

"I think of lovers in more of a romantic sense, I suppose. We do have intercourse and we do enjoy each others company to a point." Ford looked down into his glass as though he was contemplating the liquid inside. "As I've stated before, I would be very upset if something should happen to you. In fact, I have had worrisome moments when I believed you to be dead or gone. In that respect, we could, in fact, be called lovers." He said the last part softly, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips before turning a more jovial and flirtatious look on Rick.

"Maybe I will kiss you at midnight." He gave Rick's thigh a teasing squeeze before moving his hand away. "Or maybe I won't." Ford turned his head and gave a very self-satisfied gulp of his drink. Instantly he regretted it as he grimaced and coughed. "This is awful."

Rick wanted to tease Ford. He wanted to poke him in the ribs and hiss laughter and tease him for breaking his ever polished veneer enough to admit that he actually liked Rick but Rick knew Ford. His inability to take a joke was only rivaled by his refusal to trust. It would not do well to bring attention to Ford's self-perceived weakness. Rick wanted to keep things light while he could. He nodded his head at Ford's glass.

"You know what'll fix that?" He said. He didn't wait for a response before snatching up the bottle and topping off the drink. "More tequila."

"Ah. Yes. I'm sure that will help." Ford deadpanned. From here on he decided he wasn't going to drink too much. This stuff had a way of going to his head very quickly. He swirled the liquid in his glass as he turned his attention back to the never ending tv coverage of the world rolling into the new year.

To say Rick had never plied someone with alcohol would be a lie. Not a bold-faced, out and out lie and Rick was always pretty aware of people's boundaries but sometimes social lubricant was a necessity, especially with someone who had the potential to be cool but was just too much in their own head. Rick was certain that if he had to spend the millennium with Ford he was going to have to loosen up and told the man as much. He did not egg the man on to chug but Rick made sure he was there to helpfully refresh Ford's glass whenever it was looking too light. They chatted and laughed and watched the coverage of musical acts performing on time square. Rick had some pretty harsh criticism for all of them but when Green Day's lead singer, drunk as a skunk, missed a chord progression and stammered into the microphone that he was sorry because he was really fucked up, Rick cackled and applauded the man, slurring responses about how the FCC was probably shitting their pants for letting that go through on live prime-time national television and how maybe those kids weren't sellouts.

Ford tried not to drink too much but it was inevitable with the way Rick kept refilling his drink. He was feeling very relaxed and found himself watching Rick more than the tv. There were so many things that made Rick laugh. He was so open. Ford kind of wished that he could be that open. It was getting late and Ford found himself sitting close to Rick. He thought about scooting back to the other side of the couch but they were drunk and why the hell would he want to be further away. He leaned against Rick's side and casually took a sip of his drink.

It was getting late. Eleven thirty if the clock on the corner of the tv screen could be trusted. They had gotten through maybe half of the tequila over the course of the evening and the intermission for dinner had done its job to push them back behind the line of sober, but Rick could tell Ford was feeling it. Rick, who had graduated to sipping from the bottle noticed he had neglected his duties and Ford's glass was nearly empty. Rick tipped the bottle and along with another shots worth of tequila, the worm swished into the glass. Rick laughed and immediately put his arm around Ford's shoulder, pointing excitedly.

"You gotta-" Rick burped and started again "-you gotta drink the worm! You got it, it's good luck or something!" He hooted.

"What? That's disgusting." Ford looked into his glass with distaste and a hint of remorse over his drink being ruined. As he looked at the little worm in his glass he thought of the things he had eaten in odd dimensions when he had little choice. This wasn't nearly as gross. It would be just like taking a pill. "Good luck isn't real." Ford said but he sounded less reticent.

"Oh come on!! You gotta, You're like seriously the bravest guy I know and you won't eat a little worm? Don't be a pussy!" Rick persisted. He rocked his shoulder against Ford playfully. Ford looked at Rick then back down at his drink. He steeled himself then knocked back the whole drink. He pulled a face as the burning liquid slid down his throat. He stuck out his tongue as proof he had swallowed it with a mildly triumphant look on his face. Rick roared with laughter and cheered! He shook Ford heartily, squeezing him.

"Hell yes!! That's my guy!! Hey, when the hell did you become cool, Spock?" He said joyfully.

"That was a horrible choice." Ford laughed. He rested his hand on Rick's thigh. "I think it's the alcohol but maybe you didn't know me as well as you thought before." He tilted his head back a bit and smiled at Rick. "Am I really the bravest person you know?"

Rick nodded as if conceding a point to Ford. He dared to pull himself away and stood hands on his hips. He looked down at Ford slyly.

"I said it, didn't I? Half the places you left clues for me and that was just a hobby. Real shit hole dimensions. I can only imagine the balls you gotta have to go to any place worse. And you have, haven't you?" He explained. Rick strode to the fridge, grabbed the champagne and returned, picking at the gold foil. He became distracted and sat at the foot of the Murphy bed. He pulled the foil off in little pieces and tossed them to the floor like delayed, do it yourself confetti.

"I hate this gold shit..." He muttered. Ford smiled and stood from the couch.

"Hold on. You're making a mess." He said as he approached Rick on the bed. "There's a trick to it." Ford let Rick hold the bottle as he found the seam and peeled off the foil in mostly one chunk to reveal the caged cork. "Is it really almost midnight already?" He balled up the foil and bent to pick up the bits Rick had tossed on the floor.

"Yup. Last chance to make a resolution." Rick replied. He untwisted the cage and removed it. He tossed it to the floor and gave Ford's shirt a little yank. "Quit that. Who wants to come into the new millennium cleaning? C'mere, siddown." 

"But we'll just have to clean it in the morning." Ford complained but he dropped the foil ball on the floor before joining Rick on the bed. "Resolutions are counterintuitive. It's been proven that most of them are broken before February."

"Yeah, yeah. Resolutions are just as real as good luck but you drank that worm anyway..." Rick noted. He looked obliquely at Ford, daring him to disagree. Ford smiled and leaned back a bit, propping himself up with his hands on the bed behind him.

"I did. If I had to pick one I suppose it would be to defeat Bill and keep the nightmare realm locked away. This could be the year."

Rick wanted to say something mean about Ford's favorite paranoid fantasy but the man just seemed so at ease that Rick couldn't do it. He elected to make a noise halfway between a laugh and a scoff. He put the champagne bottle between his knees and positioned his thumbs on the cork, trying to ease it free of the bottle.

"I know you don't believe in all that, but it is real." Ford said conversationally. "But it is my constant resolution so perhaps I should pick something else for a yearly resolution." Ford was quiet for a moment as he watched Rick work on the cork. "I'd like to learn to be a bit more understanding of others and judge less. I'd like to be less alone." He said after a moment then added. "If I do get home I'd like to mend things with my brother."

Rick was less angered by this than he thought he should be. The mere mention of Oregon Stanford's brother was enough to set Rick's teeth on edge but plain and simple, Rick didn't feel for Vulcan Stanford the same way as he did for the one in Oregon so it felt like less of a betrayal to hear him talk about his brother.

"Think he'll take you back?" He asked mildly. Rick twisted the bottle to approach the cork from another angle. "Mother fucker..."

"No." Ford said simply "I'm sure he's moved on." He looked at Rick from the corner of his eye. He remembered for a moment why he resented Rick so much. There had been no talk of Stanley since that first time but it still bothered Ford. "Here." He took the bottle from Rick and wrapped his big hand around the cork. With a twist and a pop and the cork came off in his hand. Smoke bubbled from the top.

"Go ahead, shoot yourself down. See how that works for you." Rick punched Ford in the arm and took the bottle. He took a swig then put the bottle to Ford's lips. Ford was surprised by the cold glass of the bottle's opening being pressed to his lips. Some dribbled out of the corners of Ford's mouth and down his chin but he did take a good gulp before pulling the bottle away from his mouth.

"Damn it, Rick." He laughed, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What? You need some bubbles to get rid of that shitty mood! Don't dwell on it. Not now. That's for next year. We've still got five minutes till then. After that, whatever happens, happens." Rick reasoned. He sipped again and the buzz of bubbles was exhilarating.

"Well, how about you? What's your resolution?"

Rick tried to look unaffected. He was pretty sure it wasn't working.

"Ok turnabouts fair play, I guess. I uh..." Rick faltered "Maybe I'll talk to my daughter. I haven't seen her in a long time but she'd be about twenty now, nothing her mom could do to stop me."

Rick rested the bottle on his knee and a ring of condensation darkened his slacks. He swallowed uncomfortably.

"I know somebody who's always on my case about reconnecting with my family. He's too optimistic, I tell him that all the time but he never lets it go. He doesn't get it."

That was genuine and Ford could see that and it hit him right in the heart.

"Family can be difficult." Ford said softly. He sat up a bit more and leaned against Rick, offering his presence as support. He wasn't going to push the subject. The revelers on the television were worked into quite a frenzy as midnight approached.

"Yeah." Rick said flatly for lack of a better response. Rick stared out into space thoughtfully. He shrugged and added "Or I mean if that doesn't work out I could always give up drinking..."

A silence held the room. People on the television and outside filled it with muted cheering. Ford lifted his head off Rick's shoulder and looked at him incredulously.

"Really?"

Rick looked at Ford and the dewy look in his eyes wavered. He clenched his jaw suddenly and a snort escaped him. A crooked smile unzipped itself across Rick's face and gave another snort, this one longer and accompanied by a clipped mirthful bleat. His eyes squinted into half moons. Ford grabbed the champagne bottle and shoved Rick playfully.

"I thought you were being serious." He laughed before taking a deep swig from the bottle. The dry bite was a contrast from the mirth he was feeling. Rick nearly stumbled off the bed but was unfazed by it. He held his sides and laughed long and hard. He gasped for air and worked through a cough before breaking into new triumphant peals of laughter. He tried to speak but was unable. Riding the wave of jest and the need to wheedle Ford further, Rick took a swipe at Ford, reaching for the bottle. Ford placed a firm hand on Rick's chest. The other hand held the bottle as far away as he could from the other man.

"No! I'm helping you with your resolution!" He said leaning further back on the bed as he kept the bottle as far away from Rick as he could.

"You can't do that do to me. At least not until February!" Rick hollered and continued laughing. His reach was longer than Ford's and he managed to snatch Ford's wrist in his long fingers. His other hand took the hand on his chest. He held them both tightly and Rick tried to speak in a mock voice of horror, but it was more cheerfulness than fear. "Oh Jesus, it's starting. This is it! The DT's! I'm getting the shakes!"

Rick began comically convulsing, shaking Ford's arms vigorously. Champagne jumped and burbled out of the bottle, splattering onto the floor and dripping down both men's hands and wrists. Rick made over the top noises that sounded more like a playground assumption of electrocution rather than any kind of medical malady. Hiccupping giggles peppered the silly display.

"Ah! Rick! You're getting champagne everywhere!" Ford laughed. He rested his forehead against Rick's chest, both of his wrists still held in Rick's firm grip. Once Ford got his laughter under control he looked up at Rick. "Cut it out. We're going to miss the dropping of the ball."

Rick came down too, sighing. He lowered their arms but didn't let go. Rick looked at Ford and his gaze was that of a warm and contented drunk. Rick couldn't help but admire his beauty. Dick Clark was joyfully talking over the roar of the crowd in Times Square, referring to them as a couple million intimate friends.

"Kiss me." Rick said. It wasn't a demand but a peculiar, confidential request.

"I haven't decided whether I want to or not." Ford said leaning closer to Rick. "Besides It's not midnight yet."

"You don't have much more time to be coy about it." Rick replied. His voice was soft and distracted. His eyes flicked down to Ford's lips just a moment before looking back into his eyes. He distantly heard the voice from the television say something about how it would be the year 2000 in only twenty seconds.

Ford gently twisted his wrist free, the one holding the bottle, and he turned away from Rick just long enough to place the bottle out of harm's way. He turned back to Rick and placed his now free hand against Rick's collar bone. He leaned close. Dick Clark asked the audience if they were ready. This felt different. Far more intimate. Far more caring. 

Time is a relative thing. Ten seconds can be over before you know or it can feel like it lasts a lifetime. Even though Ford knew it was an illogical impossibility it felt to him like both at the same time. And then Ford was kissing Rick. And Rick was kissing back. 

Tongue and lips slid together in a languid dance. No teeth. No needy frenzy. This was passionate and sensual. Ford's eyes were closed as his hand moved from Rick's collar bone to the nape of his neck, holding him through this unhurried kiss.

Rick was going to force Ford's hand. He was going to tell him to decide and start counting up to their customary twelve. He would count up while the world counted down, ever going against the grain. But Ford had rendered that moot. Rick's long arms coiled around Ford's waist and held him in a loose embrace. The tv was playing a saxophone version of "Aud Lang Syne" and outside, the entire city was cheering and carrying on.

Ford's free hand slid up Rick's arm. The cotton was soft and crisp under his hands. Under the fabric, Ford could feel the unassuming muscles in those long thin arms. The tv droned on but Ford didn't hear it. His focus was on soft touch and wet lips and his mind was blissfully quiet. He pulled back slowly and blinked up at Rick.

"Is it everything you thought it'd be?" He asked softly. Words from a room draped in silver, cream and espresso.

Capable hands, hands that were just as at home holding a liquor bottle as a beaker, slid up Ford's shoulder blades and softly brought their chests together.

"So far, I like the new millennium." He said in a charming hush. Rick kissed Ford again. He took his time, tasting the dry flavor of the champagne on Ford's tongue. Beneath that was the sharpness of the tequila and the warm flavor that was Ford's own. It was unique to him and Rick would know it anywhere but he had only sampled it in rushed brief hungry kisses. Never had he had the opportunity to drink it in and savor it before and now Rick could want it no other way.

Ford wrapped his arms around Rick's shoulders and kissed him back. This felt good. He sucked gently on Rick's lower lip as they kissed. He held onto Rick but didn't cling. There was no neediness but there was passion. Before this, their kisses had always been hurried and precursory. That was necessity and shots. This was seduction and champagne.

Rick pulled them down to lay on the bed. It was not a plush or extravagant bed but it felt to Rick like heaven, yielding and warm on a cold winter night. Rick couldn't remember the last time he had not been alone on New Year's Eve. He had been to parties and bars but as far as Rick was concerned he might as well have been in empty rooms. Holidays were something Rick didn't usually bother with but tonight had been fun and dare Rick even think it, cozy. It had put Rick at ease and even if Ford wasn't buying into any of it; if this was just Ford following Rick's lead as he always had in their games, Rick didn't care. He kissed Ford and relished the supple give of his lips. Rick sighed into the kiss, sharing Ford's breath.

Ford slid his hands down to Rick's chest. His fingers caught on the buttons of Rick's shirt. He pulled away just long enough to ask "Can I take this off?" Then his lips met Rick's once more.

Rick nodded into the kiss and made a muffled "Mmhmm" against Ford's lips. He reached down with his free hand and began pulling his shirt from his slacks in an attempt to help. With deft fingers, Ford unbuttoned Rick's shirt. His kisses became more persistent as he ran his hands over Rick's chest. He hadn't realized how much he missed the feeling of Rick's skin. He slid his hands down Rick's flat stomach. His fingers stopped at the top of Rick's slacks.

Rick arched into Ford's touch. He rolled over onto his back, pulling Ford on top of him. Rick pulled Ford's shirt up, fingers gliding over the ridges of Ford's ribs and the curve of his back. He worked the fabric up under Ford's arms, still moving his lips against Ford's own. Ford pulled away just enough to yank his shirt off over his head and toss it off the bed before leaning back down to kiss the other man. He could feel Rick getting hard in his pants and his own lounge pants were tenting considerably. He huffed softly into Rick's mouth as he rubbed against the other man.

Rick gasped against Ford's lips when their bodies ground into each other. Rick put his hands on Ford's ass and gently rocked his hips. The friction sent shivers of electric pleasure through Rick's thighs and spine.

"Stanford..." He breathed. Ford kissed Rick hard. The sound of his name on Rick's lips was superb. 

"I want you." He moaned against Rick's lips as they ground together. Those words were like breath to a drowning man and provided a head rush Rick could not explain. Rick had needed those words. In a way, needed them since Gear World. On many occasions he had almost given Ford the command to say it, but knew it would be a lie. Rick didn't want to be loved by Ford. He had thought that once and found it to be his own misplaced feelings. He knew better now. What Rick wanted was to know that Ford didn't despise him and didn't return to Rick's arms time and again just out of some mechanical requirement to distract his higher thinking, as he had told Rick. He needed to know this wasn't an obligation. That the choice was Ford's and it was one that came from true yearning. For the second time tonight, Ford had beaten Rick to the punch and given him what he had craved before he could even ask.

"Yes... God yes..." Was all Rick could manage in response around his kisses. Rick pushed Ford's pants down clumsily, not being able to get them down further than Ford's strong thighs. Rick's palms caressed the globes of Ford's buttocks lightly, almost petting. Ford moaned into Rick's mouth at the touch of those big hands on his skin. He pressed gently down on Rick's chest.

"Let me get these off." He said as he moved between Rick's legs and pulled off the lounge pants. He didn't move back to straddling Rick's legs but started unbuttoning his pants instead. He paused with his hands on the bottom of the fly. "Do you want this?" He asked looking up at Rick.

"Are you kidding me?" Rick asked breathlessly, lifting his head to look down Ford. He was all muscles and scars and black tattoos and Rick was all but sick with desire looking at him. It was like he was seeing that beautiful naked body for the first time. "How could I not want this?"

Ford smiled up at Rick as he undid the button and zipper.

"I want to know you want me too." He curled his fingers under the pants and underwear. "Lift your hips for me please?"

Rick did as he was told. Ford pulled Rick's slacks down and Rick hissed pleasurably as the folds of fabric ran over his stiffened member. Rick sat up and hooked a hand around Ford's neck, bringing him in close. It was a seductive tone that Ford knew well but it was missing Rick's usual noxious attitude.

"I want you. What we have going on right now. I want that." He told Ford. He looked into Ford's eyes and the intensity was staggering. Ford surged forward and kissed Rick hard before pulling back just a little. 

"Let me show you how much I want you." There was something there that still asked permission along with Ford's hands pressing softly against Rick's chest. He was still the sub but the rules weren't set in stone the way they usually were. He silently urged Rick to lay back on the bed with his head on Ford's pillow.

Rick shuffled back to bring his long legs onto the mattress and collapsed there. His hands landed level with his head, palms up, body unguarded and Rick identified it as a pose akin to prostration but he didn't care. If the game was on now, it was with nebulous, half-hearted regard for any rules. All Rick knew was that he was in the same mental place as Ford and that was gratifying and alarming all at once. Rick and Ford were following the lead of the other without the need for hard set commands and the harmony of it was nothing Rick had ever had with the other man before. It was effortless. Rick was willing to let Ford have free reign for as long as this moment could possibly last.

"Do it..." It was somehow both a command and a plea.

Ford removed Rick's trousers and underwear from the other man's legs then laid down between them. He reached up and ran his hands down Rick's torso as Ford licked up the juncture of his hip and thigh. Then he nuzzled his way over to Rick's pubic hair, breathing in the musk of him, before licking up the underside of his member. Ford's eyes locked with Rick's as he licked over the head and then slid the tip into his mouth. He hummed appreciation for Rick's taste as he slid his mouth over Rick's length.

Rick took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His toes flexed as he let the sensations take root in his body. Rick had sucked a lot of dick in his time. He was good and honestly enjoyed performing it but Ford could surely give him a run for his money. What the man lacked in passion he more than made up for in precision, technique and a very weak gag reflex. Rick's eyes fluttered closed and he put his hand on the top of Ford's head. He didn't push or urge the other man, just brushed his fingers over Ford's hair.

"Hell, how are you so good at this? Didja take a class or something...?" He sighed.

Ford took Rick all the way down his throat and looked up at Rick like it was the most natural thing for him to do. His large nose pressed into Rick's pubic hair. The author's throat muscles squeezed Rick in an almost obscene way. When Ford pulled back to the tip he did it with a loud slurping noise. Anytime Ford had performed oral sex on someone in the past it had been with elegance and expertise. This was dirty, loud slurping sucking sounds and spit dripping down his lover's length and his own chin. He felt sexy and dirty and he liked it. He didn't have to put up pretenses with Rick. He could be dirty and silly and sexy without judgment. It was freeing. Rick squirmed and tossed his head lightly on the pillow. He moaned weakly.

"Don't stop..." He softly said. By the way Ford was deftly working his mouth on Rick's member, it seemed like stopping was the last thing on Ford's mind, but the words had fallen unbidden from Rick's lips. Rick's legs moved smoothly, brushing against Ford's sides in a kind of unconscious encouragement. Ford bobbed his head faster and sucked harder. His fingertips massaged Rick's hips as he sucked. He moaned softly as he tasted Rick's precum. His eyes were closed in deep concentration as he worked Rick over thoroughly.

When standing or sitting up Rick usually had no problem keeping it together but when laying down for a good long suck, Rick had a tendency to wriggle. It usually just felt too good not to and Rick was never one to edit his sexual reactions unless absolutely necessary. To murder a metaphor, you didn't go to the opera and not clap at the ingenue's thrilling solo aria. Though there was nothing ingenue about Ford, Rick had come to know. Perhaps when they had first met but that had been years ago and Ford had yet to fully see his own sexual potential. Rick had pushed Ford to his limits time and again and Ford had if somewhat begrudgingly complied, surpassing them each time. The Ford of today had found his own power in submitting, in the way Rick watched and touched him. Rick had shown Ford how sexy he thought Ford was and often wondered if it had sunk in. At this moment, Rick had no doubt it had.

Rick's squirming was encumbering Ford's performance. Without removing his mouth from Rick's cock Ford wound his arms around Rick's thighs to hold him in place. He stopped and sucked on Rick's cock head while smirking around his mouthful. Then he took Rick all the way down his throat again.

Rick had cracked an eye open when Ford held him down. That look on Ford's face almost undid him. Rick wondered if it was an appropriate adjective but he couldn't remember Ford having so much fun during sex before. Mr. Oh So Serious had always enjoyed sex (he emphatically told Rick that much all the time) but for a game, it never felt like they were playing. This was different. Comfortable and without reservation. Tonight the game wasn't competitive but rather a team effort and Rick was over the moon for that.

"Hey, I'm the only person who holds anybody down around here." He joked, his fingers tugging the lightest bit in Ford's hair. Ford pulled his mouth off of Rick. While he caught his breath Ford wiped his mouth with the back of his hand like he had with the champagne.

"Your movements were hindering my work." He said in a matter of fact way as if Rick had come into his lab and moved his test tubes. He smiled and crawled up Rick's body and kissed him hard. When he pulled back he said. "I want you to fuck me."

A ripple on anticipatory pleasure worked its way up Rick's spine at those words. Getting Ford to curse was like pulling teeth so it undid Rick whenever he heard it. He tried to play it cool.

"And I want to fuck you." He replied. His smile was sinful. "Hop on, beautiful..."

Ford kneeled up with a cocky smirk on his face. Using one hand on Rick's chest to balance himself Ford reached behind himself and held Rick's very hard cock at the base as he placed the head against his hole. He leaned back and moaned softly as Rick slowly entered him. Ford imagined what he must look like to Rick as he tilted his head back and moaned softly. Rick ground out a soft groan of satisfaction as Ford slowly lowered himself onto Rick's cock. His hands instinctively went up and he rested them on Ford's hips. He didn't push down, electing to let Ford set the pace, but he kneaded his fingers into the giving flesh there.

"You're incredible, you know that?" Rick said, gazing up at Ford. He regretted it as soon as he had said it, both for its nauseating sincerity and the fact that making things too intimate had a tendency to spook Ford. Rick waited for Ford, who was only halfway down Rick's aching member to pull away and end things there. Ford's heart thumped at Rick's words. He stilled for a moment before looking down at Rick and resting his other hand on that thin chest. 

"I must be with the way you look at me." Ford said back. It was quiet and hesitant but he said it before moaning and sliding the rest of the way down Rick's length.

"Oh yes." He breathed as he rested for a moment. "The feeling is mutual by the way." He smiled at Rick before he started slowly to ride back and forth. One hand slid up then back down one of Ford's tattooed arms. Rick held on loosely to Ford's wrist and looked up at him. Things had always been business-like between them, the memories always playing back in tones of cold silver in Rick's mind's eye. This was warm and golden and alive. The pace was undulating, a slow smoldering grind that Rick's whole body cried out for in waves of warm thrilling pleasure. The hand that held Ford's hip urged his movements carefully. Rick sighed and it became a quiet husky moan.

Ford couldn't believe what he was seeing. Never in any of their times together had he seen Rick so open. So warm and tender and unguarded. Something must have happened to Rick that had changed him from the loud rough drunk he had met in Lottocron Nine all those years ago but that was a mystery he would look into another day. 

"You feel so good." Ford moaned. His slid his hands further down Rick's torso so he was sitting up straighter. He moaned as it changed the angle of penetration. "So deep. Aah!" He gasped as he rode at that maddening pace. Rick gasped as Ford clenched all around him and he held onto Ford's hip a little more firmly, keeping Ford from moving faster.

"That's it...." He said, stricken. "You're going to take it all. You've done it before. You're doing just fine..."

It was lewd and the type of dirty talk Ford responded well to but it was also tempered with real encouragement and Rick was itching to see what that did to the man on top of him. Rick rolled his hips a little against Ford and the slow burn of it all radiated through him.

Ford gasped loudly then moaned as Rick thrust up into him. This was a new position for them. They mostly fucked with Rick behind Ford. No eye contact. Nothing personal. But this. Ford was on display and he was both embarrassed with his wanton lust and heady with it. He arched his back and puffed out his chest, his own sex hard between his legs and bobbing with the long deep strokes he was employing as he rode Rick. His head was tilted back again and his eyes closed as he moaned long and low from the sensation.

"Oh God. Oh yes."

Rick laughed at Ford's sudden volume change and it was a rolling sensuous sound. Rick's palm drifted up Ford's stomach and chest. He took its time, touching Ford's flesh with care and interest, the way one might inspect a jewel for flaws. Rick found none. Each scar was its own wonderful prize on Ford's well-honed body. Rick rubbed his thumb fondly over a thick one on one of Ford's ribs. He wondered where and when Ford had gotten it. Had Ford thought of Rick, the one time stitcher of his wounds, when he had put himself back together?

Rick's fingertips grazed one of Ford's nipples and Rick detoured from his ascent up Ford's body to rub soft little circles over it. He briefly pinched it between the sides of his index and middle fingers, not looking to cause pain but only excitement, then returned to rubbing the little nub to hardness. Ford almost wailed as Rick teased his nipple. He didn't remember them being this sensitive. His speed picked up a little as he rode and one of his hand wrapped around his cock. He looked back at Rick, his eyes were dilated with lust. 

"How do you know just what to do to me?" He asked with a breathy laugh. Rick hooked his hand onto Ford's shoulder. It was a bit of a reach from his laying down position but Rick's long arm managed it. With a practiced amount of pressure there and on Ford's hip, Rick held on tight and slowed Ford back into that slow, decadent grind. He wanted Ford to last and he wasn't going to end this fascinating encounter in a frenzy as they were accustomed to. By way of consolation, Rick bent a knee to brace himself and began twisting his hips up fluidly to meet Ford's own movements. Rick still controlled this. That was what Ford wanted and Rick was more than willing to give him that. But Rick was watching Ford being slowly consumed in this new position and pace and it was like making love to Ford's mind as well as his body. This pleasure was cerebral in its lust and Rick couldn't just let the waves crash over them all at once.

"There are days I know you as well as myself." Rick cooed. His hand was at the junction where Ford's neck met his shoulder and his fingers wrapped around the base of Ford's throat. His hand didn't have to squeeze. The feel of those long studied fingers there was pressure enough. Ford groaned as he was slowed by Rick's firm grip. He leaned a little closer into Rick's grip. He slowed down the stroking of his cock to go with that deep slow grind. 

"That is a terrifying thought." Ford smiled and his eyes fluttered in pleasure. "Oh fuck!"

"Smart mouth..." Rick chuckled with a sarcastic kind of fondness. They rolled into each other with precision. Rick searched for the spot deep inside Ford that had made him curse and gave full slow strokes into it. Rick's breath came more shallow as he watched Ford's face working through the building sensations.

"You like my smart mouth." Ford groaned. He licked his lips, swollen from kissing and sucking. This pace was driving him wild. They had played these waiting games before but none of them had felt like this. It was intense on every level. Rick had penetrated him in every way he could think and kept all of the friction at a slow measured pace. Ford's thighs shook and he let out a guttural sound as Rick massaged that spot inside him.

"Damn right." Rick replied. He pulled Ford down to bring their lips together and the kiss was open mouthed and wanting. Rick thrust into Ford with firm defined strokes, rocking Ford's hips with a hand on each now. Rick's hands slipped around to hold both globes of Ford's buttocks. He spread them and pushed up into Ford as deep as he could, the tightness and heat almost unbearable. 

Ford let go of his cock and pressed both palms against the wall behind Rick's head. The author pushed back on each thrust inside him, riding hard and deep. His kisses were frenzied. Any time his mouth wasn't occupied by Rick's he was mewling in need. How Rick could break him down and build him back up into this needy sexual being was beyond his comprehension. He barely recognized himself.

Rick's voice joined Ford's now. His body was filling up with delicious engrossing pleasure and he fought not to thrust fast. He could feel the amazing passion Ford was giving him all the way down through his toes and up into his arms making his muscles tense and shiver. His fingers dug into the supple skin of Ford's ass as Rick focused on the sensations and the man coming apart on top of him.

"Harder! Please harder!" Ford begged. His forehead pressed to Rick's. He needed this more than he needed anything in the multiverse. That genius brain he took so much pride in couldn't think beyond the incessant need of his body. "Rick. Please."

"All you, all you had to do was ask..." Rick stammered between his own gasps. He wrapped his long arms around Ford middle and moved with purpose, the pace not that much faster but each thrust deliberate and forceful. The new rhythm affected Rick more than he had expected it to and he gave breathy grunts with each stroke. Through slitted eyes, Rick looked up at Ford and relished in the look of dumbstruck relief there.

"Yes!" Ford moaned. One of his hands moved from the wall to cup the side of Rick's face. His big thumb rubbed against Rick's high cheekbone and he kissed the other man passionately. He moaned into the other man's mouth as he felt himself teeter close to the edge. Rick returned the kiss, breathing Ford's breath. Rick couldn't help himself any longer and thrust fast and hard. He held the man in a death grip, feeling and knowing nothing except Ford's body and the bliss it was wringing from him.  He pushed Ford's glasses askew as they kissed. Somewhere in the apartment, the readings on the blackberry were off the chart. 

"Come for me, baby... I want to feel you..." Rick panted against Ford's lips. It had been ten seconds to midnight for what felt like hours now. Ford's kiss had stopped time and Rick had no desire to see the year 2000 if it was anything less than this.

The command to come was all Ford needed. He pulled his mouth from Rick's and threw his head back as he orgasmed harder than he ever had in his life and screamed. Ragged sobs ripped from his throat as his whole body shook and his cock throbbed with each spurt of semen that spilled from the tip. Every muscle in Ford's body tightened up.

"Rick!" Ford gasped between ragged moans. He pushed down all the way on the other man's erection as he shook and clenched, his vision going white in almost religious type ecstasy.

Ford's strong push down and the squeeze of Ford's muscles all around his member made Rick see stars. He arched into the body on top of him and when he felt the hot wetness splattering between their bucking bodies Rick let himself release to join Ford in ecstasy. It was like letting go of an elastic band stretched near to its breaking point, all sudden snap and recoil. Rick came in a hard, full body orgasm, all of his muscles straining to an almost painful tenseness then surrendering to rapturous hot liquid pleasure that drained into every inch of him

"Stanford! Christ, yes.... Stanford!" Rick's moan was long and drawn out as he rode the orgasm to its full limit. It was like Ford was milking every drop from Rick with his powerful body. It was beautiful and lewd. Elegance and grit. Champagne and tequila. Stanford and Rick.

Ford collapsed on top of Rick, panting. Both hands and extra fingers were twined into Rick's hair. His eyes were closed and his face pressed into the side of Rick's neck. He kissed the long throat between panting breaths. 

"Oh God... Oh my God." He groaned when he finally got his breathing under control. Rick luxuriated in the heft of Ford on top of him and the puff of warm breath on his skin. Ford's lips felt wonderful on Rick's over-stimulated skin. He played scales on Ford's spine with tantalizingly light touches to the perspiring flesh. The relative purity of this afterglow mixed with the pair's physical filth made for an interesting combination and Rick liked it.

"The name's Rick actually. But if you insist..." He joked. He gulped air and worked to catch his breath. After a few moments, Rick added in a quieter, weaker voice "Happy New Year..."

Ford huffed a laugh. This was new too. They had never laid together before. Once their climaxes were reached they tended to pull away from each other as if caught doing something that was strictly not allowed. Neither of them seemed to want to move from their place now. 

"Happy New Year." Ford replied quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head enough to look at Rick. There was a hint of a blush on his cheeks and a slightly sheepish look in his eyes. "How long until we can do that again?"

Rick's eyebrow shot up. That was new. Rick smiled despite himself. Rick put his hand against Ford's forehead, checking for a fever he knew wasn't there.

"Well someone is feeling better. Maybe it's the worm." He snickered. "What's gotten into you? Other than me, obviously."

Ford disentangled his fingers and swiped Rick's hand away with an annoyed look.

"I have been feeling better. I told you that yesterday." Ford argued. He blushed a little more but kept his determination. "This felt different. We've been doing this for some time but I didn't really know you." Ford explained to the best of his abilities. "This was more...." The first word that came to his mind was romantic but he would never say that word to Rick. "Intimate. I feel comfortable with you. There's no judgment between us." Ford wondered if this was too much for Rick.

"I can't say you're wrong" Rick conceded with a wry half smile. Rick pulled his softening length from Ford. Ford clenched around him as he did and Rick shuddered hard. Was that a flirtatious smile on Ford's face? Rick couldn't be sure but he liked it. He didn't move to extract himself from their tangle. "Seems you finally broke me in a little. And seems I found the sexpot beneath all that nerdiness. Knew it was in there. But you're gonna have to give me fifteen minutes to have a cigarette."

Ford smirked. He liked the thought of being a sexpot. "I'm holding you to fifteen minutes." He kissed Rick before climbing off him and sitting on the edge of the bed. He stretched one arm across his chest as if preparing himself for a marathon, which Rick conceded he probably was. Just not the usual type. He looked at Rick coyly over his shoulder. "And please open a window. I've gone off cigarettes."

Rick observed Ford a moment, drinking in his form. After a moment he rolled off the bed and padded through the apartment. He wet a towel in the kitchenette sink and gave his belly and genitals a cursory wipe down. If there would be a round two, as Ford emphatically told Rick there would be, a full shower would be best saved for later. Rick found his pack of cigarettes and lighter in their customary place in his coat's inside pocket. He strode back across the apartment, giving Ford a cheeky little wink as their eyes met. He scooped up the champagne bottle with a smooth bend of the waist.

Rick put his treasures down on the window sill and struggled with the latch on the window only a moment before pushing it open. The cold breeze rushed in and Rick's shirt fluttered, catching the moving air. He knew he was doing his work there naked but for his hanging open shirt but this was New York, no matter what dimension, and it wouldn't the strangest thing anyone could see past midnight on New Year's Eve.

Rick took a seat on the hardwood and lit up. That at least kept everything from the waist down from being on display. Rick took a swig of the champagne and rested his arms on the sill to lean out the window. It had begun to snow and the cold air was bracing on his bare skin. Rick smoked and placidly watched the street still barely alive at this hour. A cop car rolled by slowly but it seemed to be the only vehicle on the road. Men and women, some bundled up for the weather and other in their finest walked by. Four very drunk college kids, two men in slacks and jackets were walking with their girlfriends who were making due in their high heels on the snowy sidewalk. Both girls braved the temperature, their bare legs on display under their party dresses and coats. One of the girls noticed Rick and waved drunkenly. Her friends noticed and joined in, laughing and shouting up 'Happy New Year!' and not waiting for a reply as they continued on. Rick didn't acknowledge them. The snow fell lightly, making any moment absent of sound somehow even quieter.

Rick breathed smoke and vapor into the cold night air. His skin rippled in refreshing gooseflesh. Rick put down the bottle and picked up his cigarette pack. He turned it in his hand and studied it thoughtfully. Rick took a very long drag on his smoke and flicked it out into the orange of the street lights.

"New Year's resolutions..." He mumbled it distantly, like an afterthought. Smoke spilled from his lips. Rick looked at the cigarettes one more time, shrugged then tossed them out as well. They fell into darkness. Rick pulled his head back into the window and shut it.

Ford looked back at Rick from his spot in the kitchen when he heard the window shut. Once he felt like he could stand without wobbling Ford had walked to the kitchen and had followed suit with wiping himself off. On the counter, Rick's blackberry was making a pathetic chirping noise.

"I think we killed it." Ford said holding up the device for Rick to see with a small smile on his face.

Rick approached Ford. His walk was that signature slouch and strut Ford had recognized from other post-coital encounters with the scientist. It telegraphed a lazy relaxed attitude yet still with a flash of brazenness for what he had just done. Rick took the blackberry from Ford and checked it.

"No, battery is just running out." He explained. He shrugged and left it on the table. He reached out and removed Ford's glasses smartly. He walked with them over to the other end of the kitchenette and opened the drawer, pulling out a butter knife. Rick turned, leaning against the sink. He fiddled with the glasses, trying to work the edge of the butter knife under the microchip in its plastic arm. "Just as well. Served its purpose. But just do me a favor and don't come back to this dimension. It was a pain to make those antivirals and we're both lucky they worked. I don't care what kind of lead you think you've got here on your wild goose chase. Best to cut your losses."

"Bill Cipher is real." Ford said. There was no malice in it, just a very matter of fact tone. He approached Rick and leaned his back against the counter beside Rick to watch the other man work through his myopic gaze. Tattooed arms crossed over a broad chest. "You have my word I won't come back though. Far too dangerous. I'm glad you're removing that chip. It gives you an unfair advantage."

He smiled at Rick and tilted his head in what he felt was a charming way. Rick nodded distractedly in agreement. The microchip came loose and Rick pried it up. He held it on the butter knife a moment and studied it before dropping it into his front shirt pocket. 

"Exactly. Cheating ruins the fun. Not that I need to cheat to find you." He put down the knife and picked up a dry dishrag. He made a little show of buffing the smudges from the lenses then, using both hands, placed the glasses carefully back on Ford's face. 

"There he is..." He added in an alluring rumble. Ford's arms unwound from themselves and his hands came to rest on Rick's too slim hips. He leaned up against Rick. His face was tilted up, a silent request for a kiss.

"Here I am." he hushed back. "Has it been 15 minutes yet?"

Rick couldn't help his delighted, scandalized smile. He hid it in their kiss.

 

  
In the mid-afternoon, Ford woke up beside Rick. He hadn't remembered when he turned around in his sleep but he hadn't fallen asleep facing Rick. The wild haired scientist didn't look his sixty years in his sleep. He was peaceful looking which was a contrast against his usual chaotic energy when he was awake. There had been many times over the past few days that Ford had seen something new in Rick and this was no exception. They had never slept this close. Usually they would fuck and one or the other would be on their way. If, for one reason or another, they decided to stay together the sleep situation required at least a foot between them. Ford and Rick had slept in each other's arms for the first time and it had been wonderful. As Ford watched Rick sleep he felt a deepening of the bond between them. It was nice. It was terrifying.

Ford lay there watching Rick sleeping for a while before slowly extracting himself from Rick's embrace. Ford moved silently around the room and prepared to siphon some of the portal fluid from the portal gun. He hated all this sneak thievery but he had little choice. He was almost out of his bootleg portal fluid and he needed something that was more stable. Ford was still a bit weak and knew he needed to go someplace safe until he was completely recovered. When Ford went to put the fluid in his Dimension Hopper he found that it had been filled already. Ford had looked at Rick still sleeping in the Murphy bed they had shared. Rick had insisted it was only because the couch was so uncomfortable and Rick's arm protectively draped over Ford was because the bed was small. His heart gave a hard thump like it had the night before. Rick must have done this for him earlier in the week. The author smiled. As most things were with them, it was unspoken that this would be their last night together until they would meet again. Of course Rick had thought of everything. Ford knew if he thanked Rick it would blow up in his face but he wanted to do something. He pulled on his pajama pants and padded quietly into the kitchen. 

When Rick woke it was to a deep voice singing a plaintive jazz standard. He didn't know the song off the top of his head but he supposed it had something to do with the singer asking the listener what they were doing on New Year's Eve. The song was accompanied by the smell of something sweet cooking. Rick found Ford cooking waffles in a beat up waffle iron he had found in the back of a cupboard. He was wearing the lounge pants Rick had brought him and singing as he cooked. The whole scene was quite enticing and Rick didn't try to hide his leer when Ford turned around and greeted him. 

The waffles were good. Very good. On par with Oregon Stanford's pancakes. Breakfast devolved into sex on the couch. After the marathon sex they had had the night before both men were surprised that they could go another round. 

They showered together, hands wandering but in a more playful capacity than in an erotic one, then dressed. The two men shared one more heated kiss that spoke of passions to come before activating their respective portal devices and the game began once more.


	5. Chapter 5

The game continued for a little more than a decade. Each time one found the other, it deepened the bond. One or two nights of consistency was a mental and physical respite for the constant wanderers. They kept their pasts to themselves along with many of their travels and adventures. The encounters were for the here and now. At one point they toyed with the idea of a romantic relationship but one petty ugly argument had put an end to that. Both men were too jealous and too stubborn for it to ever work out to that end but they could be friends and sometimes lovers. 

Now Ford was back in Lottocron. He was sore and tired as he walked up the stairs to his loft. His goggles, hood and handkerchief still covered his face as he had been on the run. Once again he had been caught counting cards in the casino. Clearly, it was getting out that the man who'd spent the last twenty years of cheating had been unmasked. He would have to turn to the more seedier gambling establishments if he needed money which he was very short on as of late. The sirens and flashing lights went past his hideout as he reached the top of the stairs. He pulled off the goggles and handkerchief before pushing open the heavy door and shutting it behind him. He leaned his hooded head against the door and rested there for a moment. He wasn't in dire straits as of yet but he was heading in that direction at an alarmingly fast pace. Ford supposed he could try and contact the resistance but as he stood in his dark room he knew that was futile. He would be alright though. He wouldn't need the help soon enough. It was all for the greater good.

"Found you."

The voice was low and seductive. Ford lifted his head and looked up shocked at the one speaking. He knew who it was.

Rick sat in the scuffed and stained lounge chair Ford used for reading. He was slumped in a posture of both ease and command, legs spread and hands gripping the armrests. The lights were off but the outside neon danced across the floor and over Rick's form on a canvas of cool blue moonlight. Rick watched Ford with a self-assured kind of amusement. He radiated power.

There had been many times Rick's entrances into Ford's life had been without much ceremony but when the mood took Rick he knew what kind of figure he cut and how to make an impression. Presence counted for a lot and Rick had presence in spades when he wanted to. For all of the confidence, both in and out of bed, Rick had seen become manifest in Ford over the many years they had had their run-ins, he knew just the look to give to rattle Ford in the best ways. Rick imagined what Ford's heart was doing right now and the way it would feel under his lips soon enough, pulsing like the fluttering wings of a moth in the beak of an owl.

Rick waited in the spinning half dark for Ford to walk the miles and miles across the room.

"You always do, Rick." Ford smiled. He moved across the room with quick sure steps. Once he reached the chair Ford climbed into it and straddled Rick's lap. Six fingers slid into Rick's hair and he kissed Rick passionately, his tongue sliding into Rick's mouth and he knew he must taste like need and want to the taller man. Ford didn't sugar coat who Rick was. He knew he was a man-eater. Rick had the uncanny ability to sniff out his arousal like a lower predator could sniff out its prey by the smell of its fear. 

Ford's other hand held a handful of Rick's now habitual long-sleeved blue shirt. The lab coat had been tossed carelessly on Ford's workbench. Ford's hood hid their faces as he kissed Rick with unabashed hunger. Rick opened his mouth to return the kiss deeply. Every time Rick believed himself to be too collected to get pulled in by Ford's wanton kisses, his oral fixation and stimulated mind proved him wrong. Rick ran his tongue over Ford's teeth, savoring his taste like a long forgotten delicacy that Rick was only lucky enough to sample once in his life and had been longing for ever since. His hands worked over Ford's body and the roughness of his coat and sweater contrasted the warm, trim muscles Rick knew hid underneath.

Rick went to cup Ford's cheek and curl his fingers at the nape of Ford's neck but Ford pushed his hand down to lightly grasp his throat. Rick couldn't help but notice what a fidgety distracted movement it was but Rick took the hint and rested his hand at the base of Ford's collarbone.

"Someone's eager..." Rick joked, his warm breath mixing with Ford's own. Ford was usually the more reserved one. He could be flirty when he wanted to be but he very seldom was the one to make the first move. Somewhere very distantly, an alarm bell gave a single chime in Rick's mind, but he ignored it.

"I can't miss you?" Ford asked between hot needy kisses. He ground down against Rick and groaned. "I'll even let you restrain me. I know you've wanted to."

He kissed Rick hard again. That alarm bell rang louder now. Bondage had become a hard no over the years, the last vestige of Ford's unwilling to trust Rick fully at the forefront of the reasons why. Rick broke there kiss and looked at Ford hard and unflinching. He tilted his head to see Ford's eyes that were half hidden beneath the edge of his hood.

"Is something wrong?" He asked suspiciously. Ford swallowed hard.

"Nothing's wrong." He said after a moment, unconvincingly. "I'm just glad to see you." He leaned in to kiss Rick quick so as to halt any further conversation. Rick avoided it, twisting his head and fixed Ford with a furrowed brow.

"No..." He said slowly but began to pick up speed "No, I know that face. That's your 'don't ask me about it' face. Something is up. All this go around and you end it back where we started. Kind of lazy. Almost feels like we didn't want to establish a new location. Is that why your clues were so weird?" 

This last string of clues had been longer and more complicated. It had taken every piece of Ford's previous coding and cipher expertise and there was a ringing finality to it. Something that said all other codes and clues had been nothing but practice and a run up to a challenge to use all of the previous tricks Rick had learned towards some singular end goal. Then the last clue had suddenly been child's play. Rick had been lead to Slots N Shots and tied to one of the machine's handles had been a far too easily translated cipher that read "You know where". He had gone straight to Ford's loft on the waterfront.

Rick suspected something but didn't quite know what it was yet. He didn't know if he wanted to know.

"They weren't weird." Ford pouted. His eyes shifted away from Rick's face. "I was sick of waiting for you so I simplified things, is all." He once again tried to kiss Rick. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"Don't bullshit me, beautiful." Rick said firmly around Ford's kisses. The hand on Ford's throat pushed Ford away a bit and held him there. "Your ridiculous compulsion for rules is way stronger than your impatience."

"Damn." Ford growled climbing out of Ricks lap. He turned away from Rick and without thinking about it he went to run his fingers through his hair. The hood fell away. Ford's hair was no more than a half an inch and a long pink scar ran along the occipital bone of his skull. He turned back and looked at Rick once he realized what he had done. His eyes were sunken and his skin was pale.

"Rick. Don't." He said quickly. Rick was up on his feet and over to Ford before the man could say anything more. He hissed air through clenched teeth. Rick's hands shot out to touch Ford but they hovered there, afraid to try in case he might hurt him. Confusion and a distraught kind of panic were written all over Rick's face.

"Jesus Christ!" Rick stumbled, fingers digging into his own hair in a gesture of shocked turmoil. He walked a small staggering handful of stepped back and forth, going nowhere and never taking his eyes off the thick pink scar. "Holy- Jesus Christ, Ford! What-wh-what, what happened to you?! Who the hell, who the hell did this??"

A protective anger started to bubble in Rick. Ford was a big boy. He took care of himself and this was hardly the first time Rick had found him nursing wounds from some adventurous scrape or another but it had never been like this before. Rick was nothing if not the owner if a vindictive streak a mile long and while Ford wasn't his responsibility, Rick did consider him a friend, as tumultuous as that word could be. There was a line that was not to be crossed with Rick Sanchez's friends and right now Rick wanted to know who had been stupid enough to do it and rain down firey vengeance upon them.

Ford turned to Rick. It was touching how upset Rick was by all this. He slid an arm around Rick's waist to still his manic movements as Ford put on a smile.

"I'm fine, Rick. I'm healing. Your concern is touching but unnecessary." He leaned into Rick, trying to steer the other man back to the passion they had moments ago. "You won't hurt me." He added softly as he pulled Rick down to him.

Rick shivered in Ford's arms, a mix of unspent anger and cooled lust making his muscles feel too tight in his skin. Rick swallowed thickly into Ford's mouth a second. The kiss was brief but yearning before Rick broke it again. He stayed in Ford's arms but kept his face back and away from another attempt at distraction. Rick's face was painted in shades of erratic worry.

"Quit that! You look like death and you're throwing yourself at me like I've got a tax exempt status and a heart condition. What's going on?" Rick was more collected, if only slightly, judging by the volume of his voice but the words were still short and clipped. He wasn't upset with him, Ford could tell, but at the world in general as Rick often was when things went out of his control. Rick did touch Ford now, the short bristle of Ford's scalp seeming to unnerve him. "You gotta tell me."

"No, I don't." Ford said seriously. "I don't have to tell you anything." He pulled away and looked defiantly at Rick. "Can't we just... Enjoy this time together. What happened happened and it's over."

Now Rick's ire was beginning to turn on Ford. Rick pinned Ford down with cool indignation.

"Honesty hour." Rick said. It was his dominant voice. That phrase had entered the lexicon of their in bed arrangement some years before their New Year's Eve together. Ford's sense of pride or prudishness had sometimes made it difficult for Rick to get the man to say what he wanted from Rick. Rick became so annoyed, that after several sessions that were like pulling teeth even with a long discussion about how if Ford really wanted the job done right he had to tell Rick what he wanted, Rick instituted the 'honesty hour' command. It was just that. If Rick couldn't get around the wall he knew Ford was putting up, those words were a no questions asked command that Ford had to stop everything and tell Rick what it was he was holding back. If he didn't Rick was liable to quit the session right there.

It had made things a lot easier not just for Rick but for Ford as well. It was another switch to help turn off the restrained, logical part of himself that sometimes very loudly argued that what Ford wanted was selfish or wrong. It felt like forgiveness for anything Ford was afraid might be a bridge too far. Rick assured Ford with his actions more often than his words, that it never was.

Rick didn't want to pull the card now. He hadn't used it in a very long time. Ford had no fear in telling Rick anything anymore and that spoke of a lot of trust from the seemingly trustless man. But Rick knew that even though this wasn't quite how honesty hour was used, it may have been the only way to get Ford to be frank with him.

The words almost jumped out of Ford's mouth as soon as Rick gave the command. He pressed his lips together tightly as if to keep the explanation from spilling out and swallowed hard around the mouthful of words, his large hands clenching rhythmically as he tried to decide what to do. Finally, he settled on something. 

"You won't believe me. You've never believed me." Ford said after a moment. He looked at Rick somewhat pleadingly.

"You think I care? Honesty hour." Rick repeated. He didn't like any of this but he disliked not knowing more.

Rick would leave if he didn't tell him. Ford knew that. He also knew this time couldn't end like that. It spilled out of Ford and there was almost a sense of relief. He told Rick about dimension fifty-two and Jheselbraum The Unswerving. He told the other man about the metal plate she had put in his head in the mountain shrine. He even told Rick about the week-long recovery where he and the Oracle had spoken about Bill and the celebration where they had drunk cosmic sand. 

"I woke up in another dimension. That's when I started leaving the clues for you." Ford said sheepishly. "It was to keep Bill out of my mind. I had to do this to defeat him."

Rick took all this in gathering disbelief. He said nothing and let Ford say everything he had to. Rick was confused and upset. Still, Rick stepped back and out of Ford's embrace. He took a breath and tried to collect himself. He did only a half decent job.

"This is not about whether your imaginary friend exists. I've gone around with you too many times to have that fight again. We both, we both do a lot of stupid dangerous things. That's just how we are. Tell me you got high with some aliens. Fine. Fine, who hasn't? You had fun, things got weird, you slept with her maybe? I don't know. It doesn't matter. I don't care. What you do is your business. I don't have a say. But... but when you knowingly make a choice to let some random ass alien put a metal plate in your head, in in, in some dirty old temple cause of some crazy dream? That's when I get a say!" Rick laughed but there was no humor in it. He paced a small line on the floor. "Talk about trust no one. I spent the last twenty years trying to get you to trust me and all she had to do was, was flash your stupid boogie man in front of your eyes and-and-and, you let her open your skull!? Do you have any idea what she could have done to you while you were out? What she already has done? You could have a bomb in your head!"

Rick sat back down heavily in the chair. In lieu of getting any more upset, Rick knocked the book hanging on the clothesline that stretched the length of that corner or the room, from its spot where it was bookmarked yet long forgotten. He hid his eyes in his hand and stretched his legs out in a posture of defeat.

"You know, for a genius, you've  never been smart enough to have any self-preservation." He grumbled in a drained way.

"Bill is real." Ford said almost as a reflex. He looked down at his muddied boots. Rick had shown worry in him some of the time but that was far and few between. This felt like a parent telling you they weren't mad, just disappointed. "I didn't know this would upset you so much. I can reassure you that Jheselbraum knew what she was doing. There was little pain and I'm healing well." He was trying to be assuring.

Rick groaned in a pained way. He breathed in hard through his nose, held it and let it out in an exasperated sigh. He didn't want to be angry. That was a lie. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to be furious but Ford's appearance had shaken him. As always, Rick struggled with Ford's inability to see outside his own shortsighted goal and his downplaying of the whole situation was incredibly tiresome. Rick wanted to ask if Ford had once thought of him during his impromptu surgery but he feared how pathetic that would make him sound. 

Rick stood and crossed to the workbench. He snatched up his coat and swirled it over his shoulders, slipping his arms in fluidly. He adjusted the collar with a snap and appraised Ford callously.

"You're exhausting, you know that?" He said before sharply turning on his heels to go. Ford couldn't let Rick leave. That wasn't how this was supposed to end. Ford grabbed Rick's wrist. 

"It's over and done with." Ford said sternly. "I'll admit this wasn't my best plan of action but you don't have to ruin tonight with your jealousy."

Rick was willing to let this night go. There had been a damper put on it by Ford's news and Rick had hoped to keep his temper in check because of Ford's physical state. It brought out an onerous pity in Rick. But then Ford had to open his smart mouth. Rick looked down at Ford's hand where it was strongly wrapped around his wrist then back up at Ford.

"Jealousy?" He asked through a sneer.

"Because I trusted her more than I've trusted you. Even after years." Ford said seriously. He made sure to hold tight to Rick. "I'm not letting you run away from this for once. I'm ready to trust you. That's why I told you I'd let you restrain me. You deserve that at least."

"Don't try throwing me a bone." Rick spat. He felt like he was the one being pitied and that made his blood boil. Rick refused to stand there and be looked at like some charity case when it was Ford who was the one with his priorities all mixed up. Rick pulled his hand away with a sharp tug. He took Ford by the chin and pulled him close. Rick eyed Ford like a predatory bird on a high perch. His breath brushed Ford's lips as he spoke. If the man was so convinced that Rick was jealous, Rick was willing to play into it.

"I don't give a damn what you think I deserve. You're mine. You think you can go off and do something fucking stupid that almost gets you killed them drag me back here cause you're bored? I'm in charge. I decide whether you live or die. You need to make this up to me." He purred.

"You've never claimed me before. You really must be jealous." Ford said not pulling away from Rick. He gave the other man a dark look.

"Watch it!" Rick spat. He shot daggers with his eyes. He had never had to use more than one of their command words in a night. It made Rick uneasy. He tried to keep his head and not let Ford get the better of him.

Ford's mouth snapped shut. He gave Rick an annoyed look. He wanted to say more. He had done all this for others. He deserved this night.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you?" He gritted through his teeth. Rick gathered himself. By all rights, Rick should have left. He should have just told Ford to get bent and walked out. It would have been less painful but Rick was aware that he never knew when to quit.

Using the phrase had felt cheap but right now Rick felt petty. When someone hit the nail on the head on one of his less than admirable traits Rick often did all he could to confirm his accuser's suspicions. Rick had worked hard to earn Ford's trust and it had been a hard fought battle. The feeling of inadequacy when things had ended with Oregon Stanford reared its ugly head. He channeled it into a grimace of superiority.

Rick let go and took a step back. He spread his hands in a gesture of open honesty. The tilt of his head and the glint in his eye spoke of less savory things.

"You seem to be into running your mouth tonight. Then why don't you just tell me what you want? Don't hold anything back. I want to know everything. Let me know what I need to do. What you trust me to do. I must be missing something very important, after all." He instructed. Dark eyes behind glasses that would have been in style years ago studied Rick critically.

"I want to show you that I trust you. I want you to tie me up. Make me vulnerable." Ford said, a bit guarded. The fire in Rick's heart started to burning with lust instead of wrath. But it wasn't enough. Not for either of them, Rick suspected.

"You say you trust me but you don't talk like it. I'm not your enemy. Go on." The words were cold, business-like but there was a veracity to them. Ford stepped closer to Rick, just within reach of the other man.

"I want to feel your hands on me while I'm immobile beneath you. I want to give myself over to you completely." Ford stepped a little closer. "I want to feel you inside me while my bindings bite into my skin." He leaned in close to Rick and smirked. "I want to see if you can make me come harder than I ever have before."

Rick absorbed the words and the intent with which they had been presented to him. Rick looked into Ford's eyes. He was searching for something in them. A kernel of dishonesty or trepidation. They both stood still and silent in the dark. The swirl of neon made Ford's glasses flash in the darkness. The air was tense.

After what felt like years Rick took a step back. He calmly turned to face the workbench and approached it. The window above the work bench's sink was where one side of the clothesline had been tacked up. Rick reached out and curled his fingers around the nylon cord and gave it a sharp tug. It came free and pattered softly along the floorboards. Rick looked over his shoulder and there was lightning, beautiful, brilliant and perilous his eyes. Rick's voice, clear and hard, broke through the silence.

"One. Two. Three..."

Ford knew what was expected of him. There was no specific command given so Rick wanted him naked and on his knees. Many of their games started like this. It gave Rick the control and kept Ford guessing at what might be coming. There were a lot of layers for Ford to remove but he had until Rick reached twelve to be in position.

"Four...Five... six..."

Each article of clothing was laid on the workbench. There was some embarrassment for Ford that he was already half hard just from Rick's dominant voice. As gracefully as he could, Ford knelt on the floor with his knees spread and his hands behind his back. He waited.

Rick took his time with each number, letting it ring through the air. It gave Ford the time he needed to remove his clothes efficiently but not hurried. Rick coiled the rope into a big loose loop. When it began to go to taut at the far end, he tugged hard and the clothesline came free. It whipped the floorboards with a muted slap. Never did Rick take his eyes off Ford.

By the time Rick reached nine, Ford had fully undressed and took his position on his knees before Rick. Rick finished the count, enjoying the sound of it and watching Ford's expression of hunger and anticipation.

"Ten... eleven." Rick waited a beat longer "Twelve. Ready or not, here I come."

Ford took a deep breath as he steeled himself. Rick had proven himself to be safe. The tall man had more than proven himself worthy of Ford's trust but it had been the fear that he would be betrayed again that had held Ford back. He lifted his chin and looked up at Rick. He slowed his breathing and calmed himself for what was to come.

Rick stood, legs splayed before Ford. He pulled the rope through his hand until he reached the doubled even ends of it. It was a rudimentary type of measurements and Rick seemed to be calculating what he could do with this yardage. Happy with this, he let the rope fall from its coil and held it in one hand at about the midway point. He circled around behind Ford, twitching the rope with little flipping pulls to bring the length with him without tangling. His strut made his shoes scuff lazily on the wooden floor. Rick sunk to his knees behind Ford and he slid his palm down the back of Ford's head and neck. His fingers brushed the edge of Ford's scar but it was an with an extremely light and considerate touch. There was no anger there but perhaps in the way the pads of Rick's fingers hesitated before caressing the raised pink flesh, there might have been mindfulness. The short peach fuzz of Ford's regrowing hair was soft beneath Rick's fingers.

Rick's touch detoured to a much older scar on the back of Ford's shoulder. Four claw marks nearly twenty years old. Rick tried not to linger on them long. He instead moved to Ford's arms where they were folded behind his back. Rick brought Ford's wrists together to touch, the soft flesh on the insides of his wrists pressed together. 

Ford's breath caught as Rick touched him. He wasn't expecting Rick to touch him like this while he was being tied. He thought it'd be rough and fast. It felt good.

Rick took the loop and slipped it behind Ford's wrists. He ran the rope through, cinching it with a sudden tug and wrapped it around again, tight but not too tight. He saw Ford's fingers twitch with the pull and Ford could sense the apprehension crashing like a wave into the reality that now it had begun. Now the rope was physically binding him.

Rick worked smoothly, binding Ford's forearms and making sure the coils laid alongside and not over each other, flat. He measured the rope halfway up Ford's back making it to the center of the tattoo before running the cords over top of Ford's bicep, across his chest and pulling a pass beneath Ford's nipples. It became a fleeting embrace as Rick positioned the ropes just so. Rick's teeth scraped along Ford's shoulder as he dipped his head to taste the tattoed flesh there. Rick tied the first chest strap, pulling the ropes with long graceful movements.

Like the arms, Rick did a return pass in the opposite direction, placing the length of rope on Ford's upper chest. Again he pressed his mouth in a burning kiss to the exposed flesh as he came in close. Rick tugged again as the ropes went taut and was rewarded with a gasp as the vibrations rode through the rope and into Ford's body. The vibrations of the cord had not been expected at all and Ford's body stiffened in surprise.

"You've clearly done this before." He commented breathlessly. Ford tilted his head back to look at Rick.

"I've never been a boy scout, but I know a few knots." Was Rick's coy reply. He gave a thin smile as he quickly slipped the rope over one of Ford's shoulders, under the cords below his pectorals and back over his opposite shoulder, pulling the ropes slowly both to control them as to not hit his partner's face and to watch his reaction as the ropes slid against his skin. The hiss of the nylon as Rick made another twist then split the two shortening lines was delicate and beautiful.

Rick crisscrossed the remaining lines under Ford's arms and through the loops, locking Ford's upper arms in place and making the newly formed rope harness secure and unable to shift off him. Rick kept his thumbs tucked under ropes to keep them from getting too tight as he cinched each knot. He finished it with a square knot in the middle of Ford's back.

When Rick stilled Ford shrugged his shoulders then rolled them back, testing his bonds. It wasn't meant on purpose. Just a natural reaction after so many years on the run.

"This isn't what I expected." Ford said softly. He was caught in an odd mix of arousal and apprehension. He licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment to ground himself. He shifted on his knees then opened his eyes. "It feels good."

Rick stood and stepped in front of Ford to inspect his work. 

"Oh, it looks good." He purred. Rick drew in breath and bit his lower lip as he let it out. Ford was right and Rick had done this before but not often. While there were many others who could make intricate laces of spiderweb-like cord, Rick found all of that too showy and time-consuming. This was the only bondage knot he knew but it was elegant and beautiful in its simplicity, like minimalist architecture. A tried and true standby. Anything more complicated would distract from Ford's own allure. His chest pressed against the bindings above and below it and the white of the nylon clothesline cut a beautiful contrast on the dusting of dark chest hair. 

Rick bent at the waist and hooked his fingers in the rope just below the line of Ford's right nipple and jerked it a little. The vibration sang through the whole harness and the edge of the rope scraped Ford's nipples until they stood at attention.

"Oh!" Ford gasped his eyes slid shut and a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Moaning softly, Ford leaned into Rick's touch. His cock bobbed between his legs. That sound and the abject look of hot and bothered pleasure on Ford's face made Rick's length throb in his pants. He took the section of rope in his fist and pulled Ford to his feet. He pulled the man into a searing kiss, losing himself in Ford's lips. His free hand squeezed Ford's hip and thigh.

Ford kissed back. Already he was frustrated that he couldn't grab Rick by the face and kiss him harder. He leaned into Rick's space and moaned into his mouth.

"More." He moaned between needy kisses. Ford's voice thrummed against Rick's lips and Rick moaned his approval. He used the leverage of the new ropes like handles to pull Ford around and lead him to the armchair. He yanked Ford to sit and the ropes rasped on his skin.

"I've got more. But you gotta be patient." Rick advised, knowingly. Rick shrugged his coat back off, letting it pool around him. He pulled his shirt up and off in a stretching move that made the muscles of his torso shift under his pallid skin. He left that on the floor as well and passed a hand over his own flat stomach.

Ford's eyes devoured every inch of skin that was presented to him. Ford felt wild. Without his hands, he wasn't anything. The loss of any form of control and his hands was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever felt. The bound man spread his powerful thighs as he sat and watched this display. His hips twitched at the sight of Rick running his hands down his body. He huffed a sound between a moan and a growl as his hips twitched forward slightly.

Rick undid his belt. He took his time opening it and his pants, enjoying the way it made Ford react. Rick couldn't remember but he doubted that Ford had ever watched Rick undress. It had always been a frenzy to get the clothed off so hands and mouths could enjoy the skin beneath or the occasional order for Ford to undress Rick button by button, but Rick had never taken the opportunity to just strip himself for Ford. The line between top and bottom didn't shift in Rick's seemingly subservient act but it did waver in a fun raunchy kind of way. 

Rick kicked off his shoes and shucked off his pants, briefs and socks and took the few steps to Ford. He just stopped and stood close enough to be touched if Ford's forearms were not currently folded against one another behind him. Rick could feel the heat radiating off of Ford's blushing face on his stomach. The only part of Ford that could touch Rick was one of his knees. He gently rubbed against Rick's leg. He didn't disguise the lustful look he gave Rick, licking his lips as his eyes fell on Rick's cock.

"You're driving me wild." He said lowly.

"Good." Was Rick's only reply. He dropped to his knees and kissed Ford again, holding him by the ropes as a way to pull him in. He broke the kiss and roughly took each of Ford's thighs in his grasp and hoisted them over the arms of the chair. Rick had never seen the man look so physically exposed like this and it was a turn on, to say the least. With the pads of his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the deepest part of Ford's inner thighs, Rick dipped his head and took Ford's hard member in his mouth.

Ford leaned his head back against the chair. He moaned and arched. Every inch of his body felt hypersensitive. The rope rubbed against him with every movement and it was delicious. He fought against the urge to thrust up into Rick's mouth. Usually, their roles were reversed but the few times Rick had performed oral sex on him it had reduced him to a mess. Rick's mouth was the best he had had across the multiverse. He spread his legs wider and gasped Rick's name.

Rick took that encouraging call to heart and redoubled his efforts. Rick slipped his palms up and down the underside of Ford's legs and took joy in the twitching and jumping of muscles as he caressed them. He relaxed his throat to take Ford's cock as far down as he could. The heft of it felt good in his mouth. Rick found nothing submissive in the act of oral sex. Never had. He saw it as a technique specifically designed to bring someone to pieces. Where penetration could be dumb and artless sometimes, a binary in out that relied on hip work rather than the sex organ itself, sucking someone off required finesse from a number of tools. Between the lips, tongue, teeth, breath and gag reflex, Rick could pleasure his lovers with acumen, teasing or driving straight to orgasm depending on how Rick felt. Like God, Rick knew he could giveth and taketh away.

A thick bead of drool dribbled from Rick's mouth and ran down Ford's sack and under onto his spread cheeks. Rick, ever the resourceful type, took the opportunity. He swirled his index finger over Ford's tight hole a moment then pressed his finger inside.

"Ah!" Ford tried to push back on Rick's finger. He squirmed and panted. "Rick. Aahh!" His voice shook as Rick fingered him. He fought against his restraints. He needed to grab Rick, run his hands over that long lean body or drag him up for a deep kiss. "More. I can take more." He groaned still pulling against the ropes.

Rick obeyed Ford's plea and added a second finger. He worked them in and out of Ford in time to his bobbing, slurping mouth. Rick suckled the hot salty flesh. The head of Ford's length touched the back of Rick's throat but with concentration Rick didn't gag, instead swallowing around it. Rick crooked his fingers in a beckoning gesture. He relished in the way Ford sang and arched. Rick continued to work Ford's length with his tongue and after a few minutes pushed in a third finger. As he scissored his fingers, Rick bent his wrist to massage Ford's testicles with the palm and ball of his hand.

Ford was starting to think that he should have let Rick do this to him years ago. His own stubborn ego had kept him from bliss and Ford felt himself burn in lust, humility and incapability. 

"Yes!" He growled trying to push back on those fingers. In all of this he wasn't ready to beg.

Rick pumped his mouth on Ford's length. The growling sounds of rapture were like music to Rick's ears. Rick softly palmed his own hard cock. It was too much. Rick was wearing Ford down and his struggles, as mild as they were only enhanced his pleasure and made him sweat. Finally, Ford relaxed in his bonds. He panted and moaned and finally he begged.

"Please fuck me. Please, Rick. Please... I need you to fuck me."

Rick removed Ford's length from his mouth with a final debauched slurp and slipped his fingers slowly out of Ford's tightness. He stood, again taking Ford by his binding and hauled him to his feet. He traded places with the man and took a seat slumped low in the chair. He drew Ford down to straddle Rick's lap, flat-footed. Rick's cock rubbed against the curve of Ford's buttocks.

"Do you want me?" Rick asked in a smooth dark voice. He looked up at Ford and the blinking neon-splattered Ford's skin, tattooing his front with living ink to match the ones long dead on his back.

"Yes. I want you." Ford said breathlessly. He rubbed his supple ass against Rick's cock. He bit his lower lip and tried to maneuver Rick's cock head against his hole. "I always want you, Rick."

"Do you need me?" It came out almost unbidden. Rick had not had time to consider if that question was a bridge too far before it came out of his mouth in that same velvet tone. All Rick knew was that if those words were in Ford he had to hear them.

Ford scooted forward and leaned down. It took all of his core strength not to just collapse on top of Rick without the use of his arms. He kissed Rick the way he had kissed him on New Year's Eve. Sweet and slow and wanting.

"I need you." He said softly against Rick's lips. He wanted to know if Rick needed or wanted him but it would hurt too much now.

Rick had kissed Ford many times. They had run the gambit, echoing a slew of mental states from frenzied and rushed to dazed and dreamy. Tonight though it was like Ford had reached and prepared to overcome some sort of wall. An epiphany that he was not the fugitive, the six-fingered freak or the would-be savior of the universe. He was, like Rick, a human man that was alone in a big scary world and he needed someone to take it off his back if just for a time. They had finally met in the middle. But there was one lingering questions and Rick radiated with the longing to hear it spoken aloud.

Rick pressed the head of his length to Ford's entrance. His other hand held the handle of rope in the middle of Ford's chest. He took a breath.

"Do you trust me?"

"I've rescued you as you've rescued me." Ford spoke quietly. This conversation was for only the two of them. The universe wasn't invited to it. "I've given you control over my body and mind knowing you wouldn't harm me. I've drank with you. I've slept with you. I've slept beside you. There are days I think I know you as well as I know myself." He kissed Rick again. "I trust you, Rick."

Rick pulled Ford down onto his cock and their cries of pleasure mingled and harmonized. Rick set up a rhythm, using Ford's ropes to pull him on the down stroke. Rick's other hand held Ford at the waist. Rick's head swam in the physical pleasure and the mental sublimity.

Ford moaned as he rode Rick while still letting his dominant take the reins. He moaned decadently each time Rick filled him. He arched his back and thrust his chest forward knowing he must look enticing to Rick like that. The questions Rick had posed to Ford had given him back some power over the situation and it made this an even more heady experience.

Rick thrust up into Ford with long purposeful strokes. The sight of Ford as he had never seen him before, hair shorn and arms bound behind him was intoxicating to Rick. The hand on Ford's hip came around and kneaded the giving flesh of Ford's ass cheek, changing the pressure from fingertip to palm, palm to fingertip, squeezing and caressing. He gave one smart strike and the supple flesh absorbed the impact with an exciting crack. He lifted his hand and stopped just before striking again to instead squeeze tantalizingly slow and soft. He chuckled almost with the air of a devilish, prank-pulling schoolboy at Ford's surprise.

It always surprised Ford how he would mewl in pleasure when Rick would slap his ass. He blushed every time. Over the years Ford had thought that Rick was molding him into this sexual being but he had just been revealing who he was all along. The multiverse had played its part too but this continuum had forced him to participate not just react. He gave himself fully to Rick then and it was good to belong to someone again.

Rick's eyes rolled his head and he shut them for just a minute. When he could he looked back up at Ford. He had to take in the other man's form in as someone drowning must have air. Pulling Ford a bit forward from his sitting up position, Rick ran his hand not holding the rope, up Ford's side and arm, over his shoulder and along his jaw. Rick liked the contrasting textures of the tight hard cord and Ford's soft muscled flesh. Ford leaned his face into Rick's touch. He gave Rick a lusty look before running his tongue over Rick's palm in a salacious lick. He pushed down harder on Rick's cock and moaned.

Rick's face went red with need and an almost giddy feeling of pride he always felt when he saw Ford embrace and perpetuate the brazen dirty side of himself. Rick brought that out in the mild-mannered explorer and it was incredibly erotic to see. It made his whole body buzz with hysterical excitement. Rick pushed up to meet Ford's movements. He wrapped his hand around Ford's member, wet with saliva and precum and pumped it in time as he continued to bounce Ford hard on his cock.

"Ah! Rick!" Ford moaned. His head tilted back and moaned. His thighs shook and he clenched hard around Rick. "Yes! Oh yes! Ooooh fuck me! God, yes! Fuck me!" he panted and moaned loudly. His hips bucked between the fullness of Rick's cock inside him and Rick's hand on his cock.

"Stanford...!" Rick called back. His shoulders dug into the backrest as he braced himself to thrust faster. He gasped and panted as Ford squeezed his dick and the heat and friction piled up on Rick's brain threatening to irreparably destroy it.

"Fuck! Can I come? Please!" Ford's whole body shook. Rick was pushing him over the edge and he was falling apart. "Please Rick! Please!"

"Don't ask! For God sakes, just do it!" Rick thundered. His body was burning with desire and the hard work of his leg muscles. The pleasure built up in Rick like a crescendo and he pumped hard with both his hips and hand, focusing on Ford's completion. His own was on the way no matter what he did and Rick was fixated on the satisfaction of the man on top of him. Rick had been reduced to three cubic feet of meat and bone with no other obligation than giving Ford potent, overwhelming bliss.

Ford's back arched and his thighs shook so hard he was pretty sure his legs were going to give out on him. His testicles tightened. The heat and pressure that built up between his legs was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. When it finally exploded from him, the orgasm stole his breath and any noise he might make for a moment before he gasped and howled his completion.

Rick snarled and held his breath, tensing so hard he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Ford's body contracting with orgasm was enough to bring Rick over the edge and he raggedly sobbed Ford's name. Rick's whole body went slack. He dropped his soiled hand from Ford's length and rested it his heaving belly. He hung on loosely to Ford's rope, fingers curled weakly but unable to make a full fist.

Ford let himself lean forward and lay on top of Rick, kissing him slow and deep. His eyes never fully closed. Watching Rick was important to him. He wanted to remember this. Remember what Rick looked like as they kissed. His tongue slid against Rick's with a slow grace. Rick kissed back languidly, tasting the at ease flavor of Ford's gratification. He broke the kiss if somewhat hesitantly and made the effort to break through the creeping post-coital lethargy that sometimes plagued Rick. 

"Let's get those knots off you..." He whispered and tugged softly on Ford as an instruction to stand.

Ford didn't comply right away. He leaned up and kissed Rick again. He needed it. After a moment he pulled off of Rick's softening cock with a little moan. He smirked at Rick and backed up. Rick stood up with him and before Ford could register what was happening Rick had taken him by the bundle of rope between his shoulder blades and spun him around. Rick held Ford up from behind, arms wrapped around his waist. The flat of Rick's hands rubbed across Ford's stomach and thighs. It spread Ford's seed a little but that wasn't the intention. Rick wanted to keep touching Ford's skin. His sex may have been spent but his need wasn't. He kissed Ford's neck and ear and brushed his nose through the short bristle of hair covering Ford's scalp.

"You did incredible..." He hummed in a lush low voice that Ford wasn't sure he had ever heard from Rick. Usually, Ford would tilt his head and kiss Rick. Usually, he'd practically purr from a phrase like that. He hadn't been expecting this tenderness from Rick. 

"There wasn't much I could do." Ford answered softly. He swallowed the butterflies in his mouth.

"Doesn't matter." Rick replied and a matter of fact edge has joined the mild voice "You did it when you were afraid to before. That's enough. You are the bravest guy I know, after all."

Rick began to untie Ford. If the tie-up had been utilitarian and efficient, the untieing was a treat. A slow and luscious reward stacked upon reward. Rick was moving slow, his own orgasm tamping down his body strength, but Rick's dreamy ministrations were active and fully in the moment, filled with warm kinetic energy. He didn't touch an inch of rope without running his hand along Ford's body the whole way to it.

"What got into you to finally take the plunge anyway?" He added.

That was a question Ford wasn't ready to answer. It would ruin everything. 

"After everything that happened, I thought you deserved something. I should have asked you to do this sooner. " He said quickly. He leaned his weight back against Rick. It felt good. Rick worked his fingers into the knots and undid them gently. As he slowly undid each loop, the supine pulls of rope became longer and the familiar vibrations of the running rope rang through Ford's over-stimulated body.

"After everything that's...." Rick repeated, his tone still velvet. The finality of Ford's puzzles reoccurred to Rick. He didn't quite know why but there was something to Ford's words. Something off but Rick couldn't quite put his finger his finger on. He obliquely tried to follow the thread. He kept his tone casual, flirty. "Sounds like a whim, me deserving something so big all of a sudden. It's not like you to be so impulsive..."

Ford sighed. The vibration of the rope was soothing. It lulled him as Rick untied him. 

"I've been impulsive lately." He said quietly. "She would have brought you if I had asked but I was caught up in the new adventure. A new fight. A new affair. I should have thought it through. I see that now. Perhaps part of me didn't want you there because I knew you'd try to talk me out of it. Though more likely it was my hubris."

Rick was taken aback by that. He presumed the she Ford talked about was the being from dimension fifty-two Ford had told Rick about earlier. Rick had thrown out Ford sleeping with the woman as a hypothetical. He didn't expect to have caught Ford in a real indiscretion over it. He pushed that aside and focused on the moment.

Rick kept his arm around Ford and pressed his hand over the loops at Ford's chest. He pulled the cord slowly under his palm, dragging the rope against itself and Ford's body as it came loose. The rope ran over one of Ford's nipple as it was pulled through. Rick leaned Ford's body into his own, keeping points of contact not only to keep Ford from falling over in his relaxed state but just to feel Ford's body touching his own as much as possible. Twining his long arm around Ford's shoulders, Rick made sure to put his thin hand over Ford's ear and the side of his face to shield it from the possibility of the rope's end jumping out of control and hitting Ford when Rick ran the cord back over and away from his chest. He continued the work over Ford's other shoulder. The hanging length rode up the back of Ford's leg and over his buttocks as it was worked free and the stimulation it provided was exquisite.

"Look. It's your life. You don't owe me anything." He said and he meant it. "I just... You could've died and it would be boring without you around. You dead... I don't want to think about that."

Rick hated to do it. Things were so pleasant right now. Couldn't Rick just leave well enough alone? Unfortunately, the nasty feeling that had pervaded Rick's mind lodged itself deeper in and refused to budge.

"Why did I have to make you tell the truth? About the plate. You thought if I saw you, saw your scar, I wouldn't ask? Why do you need it?" Said Rick. He tried to soften the probing questions by lavishing Ford's neck and shoulders with kisses and little nibbles.

With candor Ford hadn't meant to use he replied "I knew you'd be upset that I decided to go through with it. I suppose I thought I could tell you in time and you'd understand better or at least believe me. The plate's objective is to keep Bill out. That was a mistake I've made in the past and I have little intention of repeating it." Ford felt that was a satisfactory answer but it was hard to think after an intense orgasm and Rick so expertly handling him. He hummed his satisfaction with the way the ropes rubbed and Rick's fingers touched before being pulled from his reverie by Rick's word on his death. With a slight turn of his head, Ford found himself nose to nose with Rick. The close proximity and the tender touches coupled with the way Rick looked at him made his heart pound a little harder in his chest. He could love this man if only they weren't so similar.

"Would my death really cause you so much distress?" He asked softly. Rick held the taut length of cord over Ford's pectorals and after sizing the situation up a moment gave a sharp tug and twist, turning Ford and re-embracing him, now chest to chest. Rick kissed Ford's lips with slow, hot open mouthed passes as he unworked the last set of knots and loops holding Ford's arms together. That seemed to pass as Rick's answer. 

Each pull of the bindings was sensual and purposeful. Rick weaved the loops through his long elegant fingers as he pulled and used the full length of his reach to keep the vibrating movements of the rope as continuous as possible. Ford kissed back and he felt his heart break. As soon as the cord loosened he pulled his arms free and wrapped them around Rick. Ford didn't want to hurt him. Over the years he had seen Rick's scars. They had been physical and mental and he would just be another one. Ford kissed Rick with everything he had because this could be the last one.

Rick returned the embrace, his hand closed over the back of Ford's head, careful to not hurt Ford but heedless of any perceived taboo in touching the thick pink scar there. He breathed Ford in and even after their prolonged contact he did not tire of the feel of Ford's body aligned and flush against him. After a very long time, their lips parted. Rick knew he could just choose to not persist but there was something there. Something like a splinter in his mind that could infect if not dealt with right away. Rick steeled himself to it. If Ford really did trust Rick like he had said and shown, he would answer.

"What else? All these years and you only think to keep him out now? What are you planning?" He asked, inches away. Rick searched Ford's eyes for the truth. Ford licked his lips and looked away.

"I don't want you to worry." He looked back up intently into Rick's face. "If I should know something is to happen to me, if I know and there's nothing I can do to change the outcome, I will find a way to say goodbye. I won't leave you searching for me."

"That doesn't answer my question." Rick knew Ford was avoiding him and thus had something to say that he knew Rick wouldn't like. "What's going to happen, Stanford?"

"Rick -" Ford didn't know how to say this. He hadn't meant for this to happen. "I need a favor. I need portal fluid. I'm almost out of money and they've found me out at the casinos so I can't afford to make my own."

Rick eyed Ford warily. His arms loosened around the man.

"You don't need to ask for that. Usually you never do." He intoned. It was a known secret between them and Rick felt no need not to mention it if Ford was bringing it up. Rick was growing weary of Ford's inelegant waltzing around the issue.

"I don't need much. Just enough to get me there." Ford added quietly. He looked at Rick and begged with his eyes to not have to say it.

"Where?" Rick asked. He already knew the answer before Ford could tell him.

"The Nightmare Realm." He said with a resigned sigh. He held onto Rick tighter. He knew the explosion that was coming but he wasn't ready to let go. Rick's whole boy went stiff. He hung his head and clenched his jaw. His hands dropped to his sides.

"Come on, Stanford..." He growled in a voice of disappointment that said he was very upset they were going to have this fight again. Ford held on tighter. 

"I've got my Quantum Destablizier working. I found a power source. I have to go destroy him but I need your help." He said desperately.

"Stanford, don't..." Rick was not prepared for this. There was no denying that Rick did love Ford in a way. In the way his addictive personality latched on and always wanted more but who they were and their very different natures would always drive a wedge between them. It was happening again and Rick didn't want to be the bad guy.

"I can't walk away from this, Rick. This is my destiny. Jheselbraum told me herself. I'm sorry that it had to come out like this but it's the very nature of what we do." Ford said it hurriedly as he clutched Rick.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Rick shoved Ford back. 

"What we do?" Rick asked in incredulous anger "You were just planning to Matahari me? Get my rocks off and pillow talk your way into getting what you want." 

Rick quickly began to dress. He pulled his shirt and pants on and went to kick his shoes on, not bothering with his socks.

"I'm out of here. I can't believe you." He spat. Rick looked around for his coat.

"No! Wait!" Ford grabbed Rick's arm before he could go. "I do need the portal fluid but I wanted to say goodbye. There hasn't been anyone else I've wanted to say that to. None of them mattered like you do." He squeezed Rick's arm gently. "I'm not coming back."

"You're not coming-" Rick regurgitated the words before they could fully sink in. "Are you kidding me? What the hell do you think you're going to do? What could you have possibly gotten yourself into? You don't believe in luck or God but now you're talking to me about destiny? If God doesn't exist then neither does the devil. But you're still so set on fighting him."

"Bill Cipher-" Ford began.

"Bill Cipher is real, yeah, I've heard it. I've seen as much as you have and I still don't believe in your little dream catcher demon! You've really have gone off the deep end this time." Rick fought the snarl that was threatening to smear across his face. Rick's head was spinning. He felt betrayed and used and foolish. Ford was standing there telling Rick that he mattered to him and in the same breath was refusing to listen to reason. Rick didn't want to plead with Ford but he was beginning to think he didn't have another option.

"You can believe I've lost my mind all you want but I have to destroy him." Ford was frustrated. His voice had started to rise but he stopped himself. With a deep breath, Ford continued calmly but with some tension in his voice. "Unlike God, I've seen Bill. I've let him into my mind and if I don't stop him the whole multiverse will collapse one dimension at a time. This is my purpose." He let go of Rick's arm. Rick was still looking at him like he was an ignorant child and it was causing Ford's calm facade to crack. 

"I wanted you to stay with me for a few days, perhaps a week. I wanted to say goodbye properly but your damn games forced my hand." The author bit his tongue to stop himself. He didn't want to fight with Rick but this was his fault. Like Gear World. His brain laid the problem squarely on Rick.

"Excuse me, I don't think I heard you with all the _CRAZY_ in my ears." Rick momentarily raised his voice on the word 'crazy'. "You always go on about how you don't like playing games; how they're beneath you. Meanwhile, I've been watching you tilting at windmills and living your little Hardy Boys adventure life for the last twenty years! You're a goddamn child, Ford!"

"I'm a child? You're one to talk." Ford growled at Rick. He grabbed his pants and yanked them on before turning on Rick. "I've spent decades doing what I've had to help save the multiverse to the point that I'm ready to die for it. You've done nothing to help anyone but yourself. You're in your seventies. It's time for you to come to terms that you're old. You aren't some damn rock and roll teenager or whatever. At least I've had an end game this whole time. You've done nothing but run from your age and your responsibilities."

He glared at Rick with clear disdain. Rick ignored the comments on his age in favor of putting his finger in a wound he had a feeling was still open. Beneath the indignation of it, Rick hoped it might turn Ford's from the fatal course it was on.

"Do you remember the New Year's we spent together? Your resolution? You said you were gonna make it up to your brother. You can't do that if you're dead." Rick intoned. He watched Ford for a crack in his resolve.

Ford's eyes darkened. He had thought of that but Stanley was living his life. Rick had confirmed that when they first met. Stan had been carousing in a bar the night the two had met and it had led to a debauched weekend of drugs and sex. Even knowing that, Ford still loved his brother and wanted to keep him safe. 

"I'm giving up my life to save his. I'd say that would make it up to him." Ford frowned and looked at the ground. There had been a thought in his mind that maybe he could ask Rick to bring Stan a message for him but the thought of putting the two of them together again didn't sit well with Ford. Rick had laid his hands on Stanley once and Ford would be damned if he did it again or facilitated them meeting again.

Rick rolled his eyes and chuckled bitterly. He threw his arms up in the air and they fell back down limply, slapping against his thighs. He gave a short determined huff of breath, nodding his head in a way that spoke of an unrelated connection clicking into place.

"Of course. Of course, a martyr to the end." Rick said tightly. "Easier to wallow in your own self-righteous bullshit than actually think of anything productive. As long as you get to be the big man. Y'know, that's the one thing about you Stanfords. Every version of you has to be a hero and _I CAN'T STAND THAT_." 

"Is that you're new game then? Playing games with Stanfords across the multiverse?" Ford walked away because if he stayed in close proximity of Rick he was going to hit him. "I should have known. You're nothing but a shiftless degenerate. I suspect you've already have a replacement for me waiting in the wings." He turned to the drafting table with the final blueprints for his quantum destabilizer on it. "To think you could care about someone other than yourself was my mistake. Trusting you was the other."

Another humorless laugh, this one turned away. The creak of the armchair and the clack of Rick's shoes told Ford Rick was taking the time to pull his socks on.

"I'm surprised you can speak so eloquently up there on your cross..." Rick spat. The chair creaked again and Rick's voice was now coming closer. "Honestly out of all the people I've ever slept with, I've hurt you the least. Can you believe it? But you don't need me to hurt you. You do that well enough in your own."

"Get out." Ford said darkly over his shoulder. "I wish I had stopped leaving you clues weeks ago."

"No...No, you don't." Rick's voice was cold and analytical. The pieces were falling into place even as Rick was saying them. "You wanted me here. Those suckers, they were the toughest ones you've ever given me. You were giving me a last test, weren't you?  If I couldn't figure them out, that-that-that was the excuse you needed to go through with your little suicide mission. Tell yourself I didn't come because I don't care about you. No one would miss you. But you lost your nerve in the end. You wimped out and made the last clue so easy there was no way I wouldn't come." 

Rick put a hand on Ford's bare shoulder and spun him around to face him. Rick put both hands on the drafting table, pinning Ford in.

"Did you think I wouldn't try to stop you? You knew when you left these clues you would go off to die and you did it anyway!"  He spoke vehemently now, his face inches from Ford's own. "You want me to keep you alive. Do you want me to give you the command to stay. You've done everything else I've ever told you to do and if I tell you not to kill yourself you won't use that veto? You've never used it before. Will it be different this time?"

The way Rick was asking him not to go hurt. It seemed truthful and sincere in Rick's own gruff way. It made his heart hurt and there was little more he wanted than to kiss Rick and lie to him but the wheels were in motion. Destiny waited for no man. 

"I'm going. Your little games won't impact that." Ford said. He didn't back down. He wanted to show strength. They were at the point of no return. "I didn't think you would try to stop me. I told you I wanted to say goodbye! You aren't listening!" Ford pushed Rick away. There was power behind the push and it sent Rick stumbling. "You've never listened! You've just written me off as crazy! I'm not crazy!" 

Ford was yelling and he was mad. Truly mad. Rick had stolen his goodbye with his stupid little game. Rick staggered back the few steps from Ford's shove. He looked at the man and now he allowed his anger to breach the surface. Ford was determined to make Rick the bad guy even at the expense of his own life just because Rick refused to give him what he wanted. If that's what Ford wanted, Rick couldn't help but oblige.

"Oh, fuck you! Yes, you are! You think this is sane? All this nightmare dimension, tinfoil hat bullshit?" Rick had put his coat back on and the ends fluttered with the movement. "You're going to step through that portal into an unoccupied patch of deep space and you're going to suffocate and I hope you use the ninety seconds it takes your blood to freeze to think about how I was right!"

Rick turned away. He put his hands into his wild hair and growled an inarticulate sound of frustration.

"I don't know what's worse. That I'm here, trying to save you from yourself or that you have the balls to throw a tantrum cause I won't smile and help you die!" He added.

"I never asked you to save me! I don't need saving! You aren't needed or wanted anymore! You've filled your purpose and I'm done with you!" Ford growled at Rick's back. "You were a means to an end! That's it! You're so wrapped up in yourself that you can't see the danger being posed to all dimensions, including yours! You think you've got me so tightly wrapped around your finger that I'll just abandon everything because you give a command! It didn't work on Gear World and it won't work now!"

Rick laughed hard at that and it was nasty and harsh. He leaned back and held his sides. He turned to Ford and his smile was toxic.

"Oh that's cute! You think you can play the whole shoo the dog thing with me? 'Get out of here, you dumb animal!'? You can't hurt me that easy. You really do need to grow up!"

Ford punched Rick. He punched Rick harder than he had ever punched another being in his life. All six knuckles burned with the impact of it. If it weren't for the pain in his hand and the way Rick stumbled from the blow he wouldn't believe he actually did it.  
Rick lurched to the side. He held his jaw gingerly and let his head hang.

"Son of a bitch..." He cursed.

"Get out." Ford said quietly.

Rick wanted to pummel Ford. He wanted to wrap his thin hands around Ford's neck and squeeze until the smart little bastard's world went black around the edges. It was in his nature. No one stupid enough to lay their hands on Rick Sanchez went unpunished. But Rick was in such an emotional mire that couldn't bring himself to do it. At the forefront was frustration. The familiar frustration Rick had experienced when confronted by Ford's unshakable belief in something that by all scientific principles was nonsense but magnified by thousands. Disappointment in Ford's brilliant mind for succumbing to its delusions and pity because Rick was being honest when he said Ford was best at hurting himself. Beneath it all there was lingering longing to make things right with someone he didn't believe could have trusted him yet did and self-loathing and the unshakable fear that Rick was about to lose another Stanford he had been weak enough to care about.

None of this was something that couldn't be easily quantified as plain anger or expressed with physical violence. Rick's body shook with adrenaline desperately kept in check. Rick bit his lip and fixed Ford with an expression that could shatter glass.

"You're right, you know." He croaked "I can't control you and I never could. But I do get to control how this game ends. You can't go through with anything if I don't give you your fluid. That's the whole reason you wanted me here. A means to an end right? All I have to do is nothing. Stalemate."

Rick swallowed thickly and tasted blood. Ford must have split his lip.

"I'll find a way. Don't think you're going to stop me now. I'll beg, borrow and steal until I can make my own if I have to. I don't need you." Ford was frustrated and angry. He wanted Rick to hit him back or go but he couldn't stand this any longer because part of him hated hurting Rick. Rick wanted to believe that there was no way Ford could make any kind of fluid. He had done it before but this could've been a bluff. Rick couldn't be sure and that honestly scared him.

"Don't you dare. You don't get to do that to me." Rick warned. It was his dominant voice.

"I'll do what I please." Ford said. With that, the dynamic of the room shifted. Ford took a step closer. "You caught me making a close proximity of it before and you yelled at me, remember? I can make it better now. More accurate. I won't need much." He voice was dark with anger. "I'll do what I have to to get to Bill. I've whored myself out to a drunken low life like you for twenty years. I'm sure anything I have to do to get what I need will be an improvement." he gave Rick a smirk. His dark eyes were cold. He wondered how Rick liked the taste of his own medicine.

Rick hated Ford in that moment. Hated him for forcing his hand like that. Hated him for being so reckless and pig-headed. But mostly he hated Ford for reminding Rick that he could be hurt. The red bubbled up over Rick's eyes and any sense of restraint left him. Rick's pain was turned resolutely outward and he refused to care anymore. Rick closed the gap between them. Rick's hand shot out and he took Ford by the wrist. Before Ford could fight the man, Rick's barking words cut him off.

"Whores need paying!" Rick had reached into his coat and now he roughly pressed something into Ford's hand. The sensation of Ford's hand held in his own, painfully familiar, made him feel ill. "Here! Services rendered! Choke on it!"

Rick couldn't look at Ford as he turned on his heel and stomped toward the loft's door. Ford looked down into his big hand and saw the bulb of green portal fluid. He was allowed only a moment to smile and enjoy his triumph before Rick spoke again.

"I knew you were nothing more than a cheap knock-off of the other Stanford! At least I still have him after you crash and burn! Have a nice life, Rambo! All five minutes of it!" He tossed the words over his shoulder like hand grenades. Ford knew he should leave well enough alone. He knew it couldn't be Stanley. That had been a one night stand. That tiny nagging voice in his head wouldn't let it go.

"Wait. What dimension? Indulge your whore one more time."

Rick turned but kept walking backward at a steady clip. He hoisted a middle finger in Ford's direction.

"Why the fuck not?! I gave you everything else you ever asked for! Forty-six apostrophe backslash! Little roadside place in Oregon! Make a pitstop on your way to Hell! You've got enough fluid now!" Rick turned his back on Ford one last time and slammed the door behind him.

Ford felt numb all over. He couldn't breathe. Rick was seeing his Stanley. Rick had been seeing him for years. Touching him. Fucking him. And Stan was still in Oregon. Was he working on the portal? That could cause catastrophic damage to his plan. But surely Stan could never figure out how to start up the portal on his own... But with Rick's help, he could. 

And the guitar case in Gear World. It suddenly came back to Ford in a rush. That was his guitar. Fiddleford had given it to him. It had been locked away in a closet in his research center after Fiddleford had abandoned him. It confirmed everything. The pit of Ford's stomach dropped. Not only was Rick still seeing Stanley, but he was also fucking him in Ford's home. 

Ford saw red. His body unlocked and he rushed to the door.

"No! Don't touch him! Don't touch him again, you bastard! " Ford yelled. He ran down the stairs and out onto the street, searching for Rick. Ford found no trace of the man. "Damn! Damn! " He swore through gritted teeth. He paced in the street. Ford wanted to kill Rick. Ford wanted to scatter his remains across the cosmos. All because he had dared to touch his Stanley. His hand clenched and he felt his ire growing but the bulb still laid in his palm. 

Wearily, Ford returned to his small safe space. He dropped heavily into his reading chair. He could feel his own seed drying on his skin and Rick's still inside him. He contemplated the vial in his possession and all he had sacrificed for it. Rick. And now Stanley. The anger Ford thought he had finally pushed aside rose up in him again. He stood and placed the vial on his work table. 

He viscously yanked his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. There had to be a way to keep Stan from that degenerate but every theory Ford thought up never panned out. If he saw Stanley again Ford knew he couldn't leave him. Rick was probably there already, plying his brother with liquor and drugs until Rick forced his way between Stanley's legs. Ford was shaking he was so mad.

Without thinking he threw his glasses across the room in anger and frustration. When he would pick them up in the morning, the author would find a crack in the left lens. It would be a reminder as to why he didn't trust others. 

Emotionally exhausted, Ford collapsed onto his sleeping mat and buried his face in his hands. He knew now he was never meant to return home. That was clear to Ford now. He only hoped that Rick might find some benevolence to tell Stan what had happened and that Stan would remember him fondly after Ford had died to save him.


End file.
